


Fate Don't Know You

by sincewewereeighteen



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, American AU, Angst, Bad Boy Harry (Sort of), Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, High School, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Love, Love/Hate, M/M, Minor Character Death, Smut (eventually), Teacher Louis, Threats, description of violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-07-02 21:33:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 98,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15804993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sincewewereeighteen/pseuds/sincewewereeighteen
Summary: “Just. How bad is it?”Zayn sighs. Shit.“Not that bad, really,” he says quickly as he scans Louis’ face. “It depends, really. The freshmen are all right and I think you’ll manage just fine with the sophomores.”“But?”“Seniors are always shit because they think they rule the school, and this specific class of juniors… Well, let’s say you’ll find a real troublemaker there. Some say he used to be a soft kid, but- I don’t know. Most teachers just leave him alone.”  Zayn shrugs. “He walks around with a tough crowd. Guess no one wants to take their chances with him. This is Chicago after all.”“D’you know the name of the kid?” Louis asks, already very curious to meet said person.“His name is Harry Styles.” The other man responds. “You’re in for a treat with this one.”[Or: The one in which Louis always hears thunder when Harry speaks and sees lightning when he glances at him.]





	1. THUNDER

**Author's Note:**

  * For [missdisaster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/missdisaster/gifts).



> Alright, so: I'm not the biggest fan of High School AUs. I usually think they're either boring or sort of creepy, so I always tend to stay away from them. HOWEVER, months ago I was on the subway and this lady - who was a teacher at a public school -, told me a story. Not a romantic one, mind, but right there on the spot I had an idea for this fic. 
> 
> There's a progression to their relationship, so do not expect anything dirty at the beginning, I just... Couldn't (not in this AU at least haha.)  
> I quite like how it's turned out, though. I hope you do too.

 

 

**_"Just a young gun with a quick fuse."_ **

 

Louis thinks he might throw up. He swears, if he receives one more _good luck_ message from his family he might throw his phone away. It’s not like this is his first job and it’s definitely not the first time he’s moving alone to a different city; actually, he has come here many times over the years to eat the horrendous pizza that everyone thinks is delicious.

Chicago is cold. Cold. Cold. And cold. There’s literally no other way to describe this city in January, and Louis is already dreading these first few months, because he knows the chances of him having snow up to his nose are immense and, as a born and raised Californian, Louis really fucking hates the snow.

He was made for the sun, is the thing. He likes surfing, feeling beach breeze on his face and in his hair, having permanent caramel skin and eating ice cream every afternoon; he likes wearing as little clothing as socially acceptable and he likes not having to worry every second of his life that he’ll crash his car due to black ice.

So if you ask him _why in the hell_ he wound up here, there is not a single, plausible reason. He doesn’t know anyone here except for the Blonde Bar Owner he met a couple of days ago and is yet to remember the name (Neil Something? Louis was drunk, forgive him), and a police officer called Liam Payne, who lives one floor below Louis.

He’ll make do, though. He’s sure of that.

 

-

 

“Morning, I’m Louis Tomlinson, today is my first day here?” He kind of asks as he introduces himself to the secretary on the front desk.

This place is _big_.

“Good morning. Are you the new teacher?” The woman asks.

“Yes, yes.”

“You’re young. Gonna be famous and make Zayn jealous.” She says excitedly as she gets up, offering her hand for Louis to shake. Louis squints his eyes a bit, not really understanding anything, but stretches his own hand anyways. “Zayn’s _the hot teacher_ , or so the students call him. Everyone else is just middle-aged and boring. I’m Jade, by the way, nice to meet you, Louis.”

“Uh- nice to meet you too.” He stammers.

“Classes resume next week, are you excited?” The girl walks and Louis follows.

“Yes, yes, sure,” Louis smiles as brightly as he can. “I honestly wasn’t expecting to be called up until the beginning of the next school year, so it was quite the surprise when they told me in December that I should be here today. A good one, but still…”

“Yeah… Miss Carolina had to leave in the middle of the semester for personal reasons… It all worked out anyways, right?”

“Right.” He responds, and then they stop.

“This is the principal’s room. But I’m sure you’ve already talked to him.”

“Mr. Corden. Yes, yes I have.”

“Well, he’s waiting for you. Welcome to CPS, Louis.” CPS, which stands for Chicago Public School. Right.

“Thanks. See you…”

 

Louis knocks on the door twice and meets James Corden, his new boss for God knows how long. Their talk is pretty standard; Louis signs some remaining papers and they talk about his academic and professional history, basically reviewing everything Louis has already told him via Skype.

He’s nice and personable enough, and when he tells Louis that there’s about to be a teacher’s meeting, Louis could swear he’s waiting for a reaction, but the teacher simply smiles politely and says he _can’t wait_ to meet his new co-workers. By the smile James gives him back, that was the correct thing to do.

 

Jade was right. Everyone _is_ middle-aged and they do look kind of boring. But they are nice enough, Louis figures. Everyone sits around a long, oval table, and the heads of each department introduce themselves – mostly for Louis’ sake – and then they take it from there, talking about the events that are to come and the changes that were made in the classrooms during the short winter break.

Louis learns that, for now, when the snow days are too cruel, they cancel classes, and everyone receives an email alert, including students. _Thank you, Jesus._ He also learns that there is really every kind of student here: from well off to really poor, from extremely smart and committed to _total failures_ . Now, Louis isn’t really a believer in _total failures_ , but he keeps it to himself whilst Simon Cowell – head of the Chemistry Department – talks about the “delinquents” that haven’t been expelled yet.

“Sorry I’m late,” somebody says as they open the door.

Somebody Louis knows, for a _fact_ , that is teacher Zayn. Because holy shit, that person _is_ the definition of _hot_ . Louis swears he’s never seen anyone hotter in his life and being the proud, gay man that he is, he’s already _been with_ many hot people.

Zayn walks in and takes a seat right beside Louis, which doesn’t give him the chance to stare a little longer without being totally creepy, but from what he can gather, one thing is certain: his nickname is totally on point.

 

It’s only one hour and a half later that James calls it a day and offers them a non-alcoholic cocktail as a _welcome back_ celebration. Louis snorts before he can help himself, and Zayn looks at him immediately, a smirk on his face.

“If you’re nice enough, we can drink alcohol after this is over,” he says, gesturing around. “You’re the new teacher, right?”

“Louis.” He introduces himself, offering Zayn a hand. “Louis Tomlinson.”

“Zayn Malik. The only cool person around.”

“I beg to differ,” Louis replies, “Cowell seems to be a _delight_.”

“Yeah, if you’re into the whole devil incarnate thing…” Zayn jokes.

“Hey! Don’t bad-mouth the Devil like that...” He jokes back and the other teacher laughs.

“I like you. You can stay.” Zayn pats him on the back. “Let’s eat something and get out of here… Louis Tomlinson.”

“Tommo will suffice. Or, you know, _Your Majesty_.”

“Sure.” He rolls his eyes and walks away. Well, at least Louis knows who to stick with.

Louis does make rounds, though. He talks to everybody, at least for five minutes with each one of them. One of the teachers gets a bit _handsy_ and that’s when he comes out to her, knowing that this way he’s officially coming out to everybody. He doesn’t mind telling people he is gay; he does get bothered by everyone assuming he is straight, as if his whole flamboyant ensemble isn’t enough to scream he isn’t straight. People are crazy. Go figure.

He really likes James, he decides. The principal sure is better than his former boss, an old woman who thought New York City was the center of the world, and Louis finds out Zayn likes him too. _James isn’t best friend material, he won’t let you get away with shit. But he is fair_ , the other man warns him as they walk together out of the school.

“Where are we going to drink?” He asks. “Or- is the offer still up?”

“Yeah, mate. Us newbies gotta stick together, right?”

“I assume.” Louis agrees. “I drove here, you?”

“I rode my motorcycle. D’you know where _A.M._ is or are you completely new to the city?”

“Not really familiar with it, no- but is _A.M.,_ by any chance, at Lincoln Park?”

“Yes! So you know it?”

“Been there once, it’s close to my place.”

“Kay, then. See you there.” Zayn waves and makes his way towards the parking lot. Louis wonders if he’ll have his own parking spot too, come Monday. He really hopes so.

 

Twenty minutes later and they are found at _A.M._ , where _Niall Horan, Proud Texan_ , hands them two ice cold pints.

“Shit,” Louis complains when his hands practically fall off, even with the heater on.

“You’re not used to this weather, are ya?” Niall asks from the other side of the bar counter.

“I am, I just don’t like it.” Louis says.

“Where are you from?” Zayn asks him.

“Cali. You?”

“New York,” he replies. _Well, but of course_ . Louis doesn’t need to ask to know that Zayn grew up in Chelsea, bought a lot of things from thrift shops and still looked like a model, and ate Italian food at _La Pecora Bianca_ at least once a week.

“You a UCLA kid then?” The Texan asks Louis.

“No, mate, Princeton,” he answers.

“Oh, an Ivy League sweetheart!” Zayn mocks.

“Where did _you_ go to school?”

“NYU,” he promptly responds. “I didn’t want to move from New York.”

“So, why did you?” Louis asks.

“My wife got a job at a Magazine here… And I followed her.”

“That’s really romantic.” He grants.

“Shit, mate, you're married? How old _are you_?” Niall, for one, sounds outraged. It’s quite funny.

“About to turn twenty five. We've known each other for ten years. When love strikes…”

“Yeah, yeah, sure…”

“That sounds great, pal.” Louis offers.

Eventually, Louis gives up on the beer – he knows he needs to take care of this throat if he wants to have a good start come Monday – but the conversation keeps flowing like the three of them are old friends who are getting to know each other once again. He learns that Niall took this bar over only six months ago, when his uncle passed away, and that he had to break up with his girlfriend to come here.

Now the Texan man lives in a studio right above the bar, and he swears to them that he is completely satisfied with his life. _School’s just not for me, dude._ Niall plays the guitar and he sometimes organizes karaoke nights here – they usually happen on Friday, and Louis already knows he’ll be an avid singer here. Always the show off.

Zayn tells a little bit more about himself, too, and Louis shares some stuff of his life. He likes people who are like this – unafraid to tell their stories. Louis isn’t really a big fan of fake-deep, enigmatic humans; that’s just not how relationships are built.

 

It’s almost eleven p.m. when he leaves the bar, and that’s pretty late considering the fact that they got in at six and a half. He thanks Niall for the hospitality and promises to come back soon, and he also thanks Zayn on the way out.

“Like I said, us cool kids gotta stick together now,” Zayn jokes.

“Noted.” Louis agrees. “Hey, one question… I used to work at a public school in New Jersey before I came here, and it was pretty chill- but the way some teachers talk about the kids here…”

“Is there a question there, bro?”

“Just. How bad is it?”

Zayn sighs. Shit.

“Not that bad, really,” he says quickly as he scans Louis’ face. “It depends, really. The freshmen are all right and I think you’ll manage just fine with the sophomores.”

“But?”

“Seniors are always shit because they think they rule the school, and this specific class of juniors… Well, let’s say you’ll find a real troublemaker there. Some say he used to be a soft kid, but- I don’t know. Most teachers just leave him alone.”  Zayn shrugs. “He walks around with a tough crowd. Guess no one wants to take their chances with him. This is Chicago after all.”

“D’you know the name of the kid?” Louis asks, already very curious to meet said person.

“His name is Harry Styles.” The other man responds. “You’re in for a treat with this one.”

 

-

 

Louis doesn’t meet Harry Styles until Friday, which is when he first shows up. Louis knows who he is right away just by the way he walks into the room. Today he’s wearing a loose, black shirt with equally black trousers – but those are so tight Louis doesn’t know how he’s breathing down there. He’s got rich, chocolate hair, and it’s short, pointing literally everywhere – Louis guesses it’s part of his _bad boy_ appearance.

The moment he enters the room, all eyes turn to his direction, and he waves to everyone with a huge grin on his face. The girls swoon, the boys snort, and he sits in the middle of the room like a king who’s just got to this throne. Louis arches an eyebrow, showing just how unimpressed he is by his _grand entrance_ , and continues teaching as if nothing has changed. Because, well, technically, it hasn’t.

This class is good.

They’re not the smartest teenagers Louis has ever encountered, and they could get a lesson or two on _how to be polite_ , but all in all, he was expecting much worse. If he’s being honest, Louis likes them better than the freshmen, but then again it probably has a lot to do with the fact that he abhors fifteen year olds. Louis didn’t like fifteen year olds when he himself was a fifteen year old.

 

Here, he teaches literature and creative writing. The school doesn’t really have funds for theater, so he lets this dream go within the first few days. Still, he senses he can do something _good_ for them. And they like him. Louis is a very likable person, if he says so himself… And this is why he can’t really understand why Harry doesn’t show up to his classes.

One month and a half into the semester and Louis has seen him a total of four times, only three of them being inside this classroom; Harry misses papers, quizzes and the fourth time he decides to attend class, is the day Louis decides to give them a mock test – because midterms are coming.

“Why didn’t I know about this?” Harry asks the boy behind him, his husky, low voice echoing through the silent room.

“You didn’t come last class.”

“ _You_ are supposed to tell me when we have tests, Jimmy.” He says in a threatening way. Louis walks closer.

“You didn’t answer your phone, I didn-”

“You didn’t _what?_ ”

“That’s enough, don’t you think, Mr. Styles?” Louis asks him before poor Jimmy has to explain himself any further. “It is _your_ obligation to know when you have mock tests or real ones. Now turn around, get a pencil, we’re about to start.” He warns.

“What am I supposed to do?” Harry asks.

“You are all supposed to write a chronic,” Louis raises his voice, now talking to the entire class. “You don’t really need to worry _much_ about difficult vocab or anything like that… I just really want you to express yourselves. Tell me a story. Something that happened to a friend; something that happened at home or you saw on the street the other day… Not wanting to be lame and joke about the name of the class… Be… _Creative._ ” He earns a few chuckles for that. “You have two hours.”

 

Within fifteen minutes, Harry comes to his desk and drops the sheet of paper, and it reads:

 _I sucked dick yesterday, felt nice. The end_.

Harry smirks. Louis is seriously unimpressed.

“You know, Mr. Styles… Your chances of failing this class keep in increasing…”

“Yeah, yeah…” Harry answers. “See you when I see you, Mr. Tomlinson.” He replies cheekily.

 

The days go on. By the few times Harry actually shows up to class, Louis learns that nobody likes him much, yet no one really dislikes him. Harry’s a bit forward, a little intrusive, but it’s very clear to Louis that his mannerisms are due to the very _intent_ to be objectionable.

One day, when Louis looks especially grumpy – and he knows he does –, Harry automatically assumes that it is with him, and then becomes defensive at the very _good morning_ Louis offers him when he enters the room. On this day, none of his classmates dare to speak to him.

Louis hears in the corridors about him, too. Apparently his tantrums are legendary, and the entire school is kept on his toes whenever “Styles” is around.

His whole attitude makes no sense to anyone who doesn’t know him, but Louis is familiar with the type – he’s encountered a few _Harrys_ throughout his life; at some point he almost became one. At eighteen, the boy is psychologically still a child who thinks the world revolves around him and is incapable of seeing points of view other than his own.

Still, he seems to be fearful of strangers. And most of the time he is like a well-mannered preschooler, eating cookies and playing on his phone, which Louis always, always confiscates, and never stops vibrating on his desk. It gets under his skin more than he’d like to admit.

 

At CPS, Louis is constantly tired and a bit cranky, not being able to fully figure him out. Outside school, life goes on.

He meets Christopher on a Tuesday, of all the damn days. It’s raining and the cold is just starting to be bearable. Louis is walking out of a coffee shop and just like every cliché novel ever written, Christopher is in a hurry and they bump into each other. Coffee is spilt, apologies are exchanged, new coffee is bought, and both of them leave the place with smiles on their faces and phone numbers saved in their cellphones.

Their first date is a lunch on Friday. That’s when Louis finds out two things: 1) he really loves the food around here, and 2) they’re on the same page, because neither of them is looking for a serious relationship.  On the weekend, they go on a _fuck-fest_ , and this is all that happens. It’s all that keeps happening.

 

“Why aren’t you going out with him again?” Zayn asks when they leave school together on a Thursday. Louis usually gives him a ride these days.

“Dunno, we just didn’t click, I guess.” Louis answers, shrugging in his jacket.

“Was he bad in bed?”

“No.” He laughs and shoves his new best friend way too hard. Zayn stumbles a few steps. “Was all right. Just- I’m not really looking for a relationship now.”

“Oh. Was gonna introduce you a friend of Perrie’s. She’s dying to match him with someone.”

“No, thanks. No attachments here.” Louis responds. “I miss Perrie. Please invite me to dinner again, thank you.”

“We’ll see about that-” Zayn jokes. He’s about to say something else when a furious Harry Styles stomps their way.

Louis seriously sees his life flash before his eyes, but just for a second there. When Harry stops in front of him, the teacher has managed to control his breathing. He can see that Zayn is worried, he’s even holding his breath for a few seconds there. But well, Louis sure won’t be intimidated by an eighteen year old with a god complex.

 

“What do you want, Mr. Styles?”

“Who do you think you are?” Harry asks.

“Excuse me, who do _I_ think I am?” Louis smirks. “Are you out of your mind?”

“You failed me, you dick.” The student shoves a sheet of paper to Louis’ chest. He got a D minus and an F on his exams. Well deserved ones if you ask Louis.

“Uh- no.” Louis hands him back the tests. “You failed yourself. I didn’t take the test. You did.” He points out.

“D’you have any idea of who you’re messing with?” Harry asks him, stepping into Louis’ personal space and trapping him between his body and the wall.

Louis only sees emerald. His eyes, this up close, are deep and catastrophic, and he can even see some flecks of silver in them. Harry also has distinct cheekbones, and a very angular, prominent jaw. His pale skin makes him look devilishly handsome, and Louis thinks that that, combined with his almighty attitude, is what makes people be so intimidated by him.

Well. Louis isn’t one of these people.

“I really, really don’t.” Louis says.

“You should. I know people.”

“Is that a threat?” He snorts. “With this _baby face_ you feel like you are _threatening_ me?” Louis presses.

“Tommo.” Zayn warns him.

“Watch your back, Mr. Tomlinson. You better not fail me.” Harry says, voice low.

“ _You’d_ better.” The teacher corrects and smirks. “Still wondering why you failed?” He asks. “Get out of my face, Mr. Styles.”

“You’re warned.” Harry points a finger to his face and walks out.

Zayn sighs a long sigh. Louis all but rolls his eyes.

“Can you fucking believe him?” He asks his friend, who looks pale.

“Are you _crazy_ you fucking _idiot_ ?” Zayn asks him, very, very angrily. “That prick lives in one of the most dangerous neighborhoods around here, he’s friends with all kinds of dangerous people and if he goes around threatening you, it’s because he _can_ make it happen!” His friend slaps him on the arm.

“Zayn. Harry’s an eighteen year old whose parents are negligent and unaware. He’s a cliché, but he’s not dangerous.” He says as he starts walking.

“You’re wrong.”

“Where does he live, by the way?”

“Fuller Park.” Zayn answers. “It’s the second worst neighborhood of Chicago,” he explains, “it’s up the road a bit from Auburn Gresham… It’s, like, a real _hood_.”

“Hm. Kay.” Louis says. “Think I can get an exact address from his file?”

“What for?”

“Pay his parents a visit,” Louis tells him. “I’ve called numerous times and no one picks up. Harry _obviously_ won’t give them any notes, so. I wanna go there.”

“You don’t. Not even you can be that insane.”

“What’s gonna happen to me, Z? They’re gonna keep me there and ask for ransom?” He snorts.

“No, they might kill you on spot.” His friend raises an eyebrow. “I’m serious. Pezza and I once got lost at night; we took the wrong road and wound up there… Lucky for us there was a police car and it escorted us out of the neighborhood. It’s _that_ dangerous.” He warns.

“All right. I’ll make sure to go in broad daylight.” He smiles. “Actually, will you take me?”

“No.”

“Will you lend me your motorcycle?”

“Definitely _no_.” He answers way too fast. “Well, maybe. If you’re doing this, you might as well try to pass off as a badass.” Zayn mocks him.

“Oi! Please. I _am_ a badass.”

“With a Californian accent and soft hair. Sure you are.” He winks.

“I hate you.”

“You love me.”

“No.”

“You _love_ me for letting you ride my motorcycle towards your own death?” He tries.

Louis smiles brightly.

“Yes. Yes, I do love you, Zaynie.” He agrees and squeezes his friend in a tight hug, leaving a wet kiss on his cheek and making Zayn give him a strong slap in the back of the head. Totally worth it.

 

-

 

Okay, so maybe, _maybe_ Zayn was right. This place is creepy. Not was creepy as people make it seem on TV, but definitely super different than what Louis is used to. Chicago is big – like, very big. It’s spacious. Its sidewalks are large and so are the streets, and people can usually walk freely without bumping into anybody, even when it’s “crowded.”

However, this place makes Chicago look colossal. There’s literally no one around and the motorcycle is so noisy that it makes him nervous, so he slows down a bit and tries to look around as he drives, checking the houses and their numbers, looking for Harry’s. He’s almost sure he’s on the right street.

He drives for one minute more, and then he stops. Down the road, not too far from here, there are at least four motorcycles parked, and about eight, ten guys standing around, talking and looking serious, staring at the only vehicle – _Louis’_ – around.

His first instinct is to turn around. But he knows it doesn’t work like that. Chances are he’ll get shot if he runs away now. So, slowly, ever so slowly, Louis takes off the helmet as he approaches those men, and parks a few feet away from them, waiting for permission to speak.

“Who are you?” A very tall, very broad-shouldered man asks.

“Hi.” Louis says. “Uh- my name is Louis Tomlinson. I’m looking for Harry Styles’s parents?”

“Sorry, come again?” The man says, walking closer.

“I’m Harry’s teacher. I need to talk to his parents.”

“Why? Is Harry okay?” Another man asks, coming behind the _tall, broad shouldered_ one.

“I think so. He didn’t come to school today. _Again_.”

“What do you mean again?”

“I mean… He rarely comes to school? Anyways, I promise I don’t want any trouble, I just really need to talk to his parents.”

“He hasn’t been going to school?” Man number _three_ asks.

Shit, how interested are they in Harry’s life anyways? Are they his “friends”? Are these the people Harry would have teach Louis a lesson? Or kill him?

In the back of his head, Louis can hear Zayn screaming bloody murder at him.

“No, he hasn’t.” Louis breathes out. “He’s almost failing my classes and I’m sure he isn’t doing well in the other subjects either… He got a bad grade and then he threatened me. So, I decided to talk to his parents.”

“Harry threatened a _teacher_?” Tall, broad-shouldered, man number one asks, raising his voice and crossing his arms. “Look, Mr. Tomlinson, I’ll take you to his parents’ house and we’re going to have a word with them.”

“Uh- we?”

“Yes.”

“This isn’t- I mean, it’s very kind, but- uh… This really isn’t necessary, like-” WHAT THE FUCK?

“We’ll take you to his door. You just drove past it.” Man number two says. “Get on your bike, c’mon.” He says already climbing on one of the motorcycles, man number one doing the same.

“T-thank you.” He stutters and very carefully gets on the motorcycle again, now more confused than anything.

 

Louis learns that _man one_ is called Mark and _man two_ is Jeff. He doesn’t get man number three’s name, but he isn’t very curious to know either. Mark knocks _hard_ on Harry’s door, so hard Louis is afraid he might destroy it. But then a woman opens it and she’s… Fragile. That’s the first word Louis thinks to describe her.

She is tall, but somehow looks small; like she was scared to open the door.

“Does Harry owe you anything?” She asks, lips quivering.

“No, Mrs. Anne.” Jeff replies. “We just brought someone who wants to meet you and Des.”

“Uh- who?” Anne asks again. First thing he notices is that Harry looks a bit like her – the hair color and the lips and just his whole assemble. Mark steps out of Louis’ way so she can see him for the first time. “Hi. How can I help you?” Harry’s mom asks Louis.

“Hello, Mrs. Styles, it’s very nice to meet you.” Louis says. “I’d like to come in and talk about Harry, if… If it’s possible.” He looks from her to the men, and then to her again.

Anne nods and goes inside, so do Mark and Jeff, telling Louis to follow.

“I’m going to call Des.” She says. “He’s off from work today.”

 

Inside, the place is like any American house. It isn’t by any means luxurious or even big, but everything is orderly placed, the sofa seems comfortable and there’s an amazing smell coming from the kitchen, which makes Louis’ stomach hurt. Only now he remembers that he didn’t have lunch before coming here.

There’s a Mexican _telenovela_ on TV. Or maybe it’s Brazilian. Louis really doesn’t know. There are pictures on the wall and a vinyl collection on a shelf. Louis sees Jeff opening a cookie jar and imagines it’s not the first time he’s doing it. Louis is dying for a cookie. He really, really is.

Anne comes through the hall with who Louis assumes to be Des in tow. He is proven right when he man shakes his hand and introduces himself. Harry has his father’s eyes, though the older man’s are less chaotic, more tired.

“Mr. T says Hazza hasn’t been going to school.” Mark tells Anne. “And he _threatened_ him.”

“Your son rarely shows up to class.” Louis says. “And when he does he isn’t very cooperative. He never does his homework and doesn’t study for his tests. I’m- worried. He’s getting a lot of bad grades, but instead of making up for them he just- just told me he uh- knows a lot of people. And I should watch my back. So I thought it was time to come to you guys. I’m sure this isn’t the first time you’re hearing about this behavior, but… I had to say it again.”

“No, believe us, Mr. Tomlinson, this _is_ the first time.” Des assures him.

“I-”

“He leaves this house every morning with me.” Harry’s father keeps saying as Mark walks further into the house. “I drop him off at school, I…” Des looks at Jeff. “Is he working for you again?” He asks Jeff.

“You know he never stopped.” Jeff replies pointedly. “But the deal is only afternoons, and private school kids.”

Louis should be horrified with his conversation, but somehow he isn’t. It’s… Expected, to say the least.

“Our son is a good person, Mr. Tomlinson-”

“You can call me Louis.” He interrupts Anne. “And I don’t doubt that he is, but-” as he is speaking, Mark brings Harry into the room. He’s practically dragging him, holding the eighteen year old boy by the back of his shirt.

When Harry sees him, Louis gets really scared for the first time ever since they met.

“You _son of a bitch-_ ” he makes a move towards him, but Mark holds him back by the arms, and Des puts a hand on his chest. “What are you doing here?”

“Telling your parents and your… Friends how you’ve been doing in all your classes.”

“You’ve been _missing_ classes, Harry. That was _not_ the deal.” Mark says with certain finality to his tone. Harry, for the first time, looks scared.

“Which deal is that exactly?” Louis asks.

“I sell pot to private school kids,” he explains. Anne instantly closes her eyes and turns her face to the wall. Des looks livid.

“You _what?_ ”

“It’s not a big deal, it’s not like we have enough money to get by.” He shrugs and his father raises a hand to slap him. Louis gets in the way instantly. What the-

“Don’t.” Louis says. Jeff holds Des back. “So. You’re not only a bully, you’re a drug dealer too?”

“It’s not drugs, it’s marijuana.” Mark says before Harry can answer. “And this is none of your business anyways, Mr. T.” He looks at him in a way that, unfortunately, makes Louis shut up. “What _is_ your business is Harry’s development in your class… And we can all promise you he is going to change.”

“Is that so?” Louis crosses his arms.

“It is so. Isn’t it, Harry?” Mark looks at him. Harry mumbles a yes.

“From Monday on, I want Harry in every class of the week, and also in the afternoons, for support classes. Trust me when I say he has _a lot_ to catch up.” _Probably the last two and a half years,_ he doesn’t say. “He can be a drug dealer at night, if that’s what he really wants.” He finishes feeling victorious.

Harry’s look is deadlier than the gun on Mark’s belt. Shit, he has a fucking gun. Jeff probably does too.

“We’ll change his work schedule, won’t be a problem.” Jeff says.

“It will.” Des says. “I don’t want my son dealing drugs for you.”

“Please,” Anne pleads and Louis’ heart shatters into a million pieces.

Louis looks from them to Mark and then again. Harry is red now, looks ashamed. Jeff is bored. Mark is thoughtful. So Louis speaks.

“Look,” he starts, “Harry’s dad works his ass off to live a clean life, and Harry- Harry needs some boundaries. Can’t you, like- fire him?”

“Are you aware that I am not a fucking kid, _Mister Tomlinson?_ ” Harry spits Louis’ name like it is venom. “Don’t need or _want_ you advocating in my favor.”

“Harry can stop working till his grades are better,” Mark seems to decide. “As soon as he’s up to a C+ we’ll renegotiate.”

“That’s- fair enough.” Louis says, then turns to Des, pleading, with his eyes, that the man will agree. Till then they can come up with another plan.

Both Harry’s parents nod.

“Guess your work here is done, isn’t it?” Jeff asks Louis, already moving towards the door and opening it.

“Uh- yes.” He takes one last look at Harry. “I guess it is.”

“So, be on your way.” Jeff orders again.

Louis says a timid goodbye to Harry’s parents and, surprisingly, Anne surges forwards and hugs him. She threads her fingers through his hair and murmurs a quiet _thank you_ in his ear. Des shakes his hand and nods, as if he’s saying thank you too.

“See you Monday, Harry. Bright and early, and all that.”

“Don’t you ever come back here,” is what he responds.

“ _Try_ to avoid coming back here,” Mark tells him. “But if you ever need to and find yourself in trouble- tell them _I_ let you in. Are we clear?”

Louis swallows hard. Then nods. Then speaks.

“Yes.”

“Okay. Be on your way, Mr. T. Thanks for coming. We’ll get him in line.”

The teacher murmurs one last thank you and exits the house. He puts on his helmet, climbs on the motorcycle and drives away as fast as he can without causing an accident.

 

 _“People will tell you that you should find someone that makes you a better person, but they won’t tell you about the_ process of betterment _. They won’t tell you that sometimes this is a process of many revisions, that before you can become better, you must become much worse. People don’t tell you that in order to heal you must first confront that which you need to heal from._

_They won’t tell you that in order for you to weather the storm, you must first be a storm.”_

Louis always hears thunder when Harry speaks and sees lightning when he glances at him. But then, when he gets home, Louis thinks that Harry’s process is about to begin. And long as it may be… The teacher is confident that it’s going to be worth it.

  



	2. WHITE WALLS

  
  


**_"The hardest part, it hasn’t come yet."_ **

 

 

The first thing Louis does when he gets home is take a deep, long breath. The second is drinking some water – a lot of water. The third is sitting on the sofa and calling Zayn.

“Holy shit, you’re alive,” is how the other teacher answers the phone.

“I am.” Louis muses. 

“How was it? Did you see his parents?”

Louis starts the story from the moment he got to Harry’s neighborhood to how he got out of there. 

Maybe he leaves out the fact that Harry’s parents looked sad and helpless; that the look in his father’s eyes was so worried and scared at the same time that Louis didn’t know what to do, because there was no way he could help him. Or that Harry’s mom was breakable, pale and lifeless, as if she’d forgotten long ago how to live life leisurely.

Louis definitely leaves out the fact that he thinks Harry will try to get back at him at some point, because he sure hates Louis more than anything right now. He doesn’t tell Zayn that Harry’s “friends” had guns and that they wouldn’t hesitate to use them on Louis if he walked out of line. No.

He tells Zayn about how they all reached an agreement and that Harry will be taking school seriously from now on; that the boy, albeit angry, looked exactly like Louis has always thought of him: a boy. Scared and sad and angry. Lost. But not gone.

“Damn, you’re invested,” Zayn whistles. “Why?”

“Because you told me everyone leaves him alone.” Louis answers. “He’s not the only troublemaker at school, yet he’s the only one no one ever reaches out to. You yourself helped two girls recently who were stealing tests… And you helped them because they told you their story, and you understood where they were coming from. How many people even cared enough to know what Harry’s story is? And I ask you: why? Because he lives in a poor neighborhood where not even the police have the fucking balls to go to? Well. Poor people are people too. 

Maybe he is different now because all of those assholes made him feel like that in the first place. Or maybe he’s just an idiot.” Louis shrugs even knowing no one is around. “But I’ll be damned if I let an eighteen year old throw his life away just because no one paid attention.”

“You’re right, Tommo. You are.” Zayn acknowledges. “I’ll help you however I can.”

“Good, because I’ll need it.” Louis chuckles. “I’ll come to your place tomorrow afternoon to return your motorcycle and have a beer with your wife, because, like I said, I miss her, and we can go over some stuff… I want to get his grades from every class and give him the material to study it all every afternoon I’m with him.”

“He’s gonna study with you every afternoon?”

“Only till the end of the term.”

“Okay. Wow.”

“Yeah. Anyways, I’mma shower now and veg out, ‘cause I’m exhausted. See ya tomorrow, bro.”

“See you. Get here by lunchtime, Pezza said she’d cook.”

“I’m in.” He assures him and hangs up.

 

Louis spends the rest of the evening in front of the TV; one would think he’s in love with  _ Netflix _ . Maybe he is. He sleeps early, though, exhausted from the entire week.

On Saturday, he sleeps in and when he wakes up, he heads to Zayn and Perrie’s place. As promised, she cooks for them and Louis spends at least thirty seconds hugging the woman, because it’s been forever since he last ate something that reminded him of a home-cooked meal.

They talk about everything and nothing for the longest time with beers in hands, and when Perrie leaves to visit a friend of hers who is pregnant, Louis and Zayn finally sit down to go over Harry’s grades – courtesy of James, who emailed them to Louis this morning. They’re bad, like, really bad, and Harry’s going to have to perform a miracle not to fail yet another year, but Louis believes he can help him, he really does.

At least when he leaves his friends’ place, he has a plan for the first week.

 

Sundays are for laundry, Skype sessions with his family, catching up with friends and being lazy, since he doesn’t have any papers to grade today. What a blessing, really. Sundays are also for waking up early so he can  _ go _ to bed early, and that’s exactly what he does. Louis has a hell of a week ahead of him. 

 

-

 

Harry walks in the second the bell rings, and Louis can barely believe his eyes, even though he  _ was _ expecting the boy to attend his class. He looks  _ clean _ , is the first thing Louis notices; he looks like he’s just showered, because his skin is bright and his hair is damp and he almost looks willing. Almost. As soon as their eyes meet, Harry makes a disgruntled noise and takes his place in the middle of the room, where he is, as always and literally, the  _ center _ of attention.

Louis goes about his class as he always does. He writes on the board, he explains concepts and he answers questions. In the last fifteen minutes he gives them an assignment to be done at home, and lets them go a bit earlier than normal.

Harry stays. So Louis talks to him.

“Good morning, Harry.” The teacher says as he approaches the student’s desk.

“What do you want?”

“To know what your next class is.”

“Philosophy.” 

“That’s with Samantha, right?” He asks already knowing the answer. “She’s a nice teacher.” Harry snorts. “Shouldn’t you be going?”

Harry sighs and gets up, collecting his things and putting them inside his backpack.

“What time should I be here?”

“Does two work for you? I was hoping to grab some lunch after my last class.”

“Whatever.” He responds and walks out. All right.

 

-

 

Today is difficult. But Louis already knew it was going to be.

When he enters his room at two, Harry’s already there, playing with his nails. Louis clears his throat and mutters a  _ good afternoon _ that he never hears an answer to, and then proceeds to tell Harry where they are starting. The boy is supposed to do or  _ redo _ every assignment he’s had since the beginning of the year, because Louis and Zayn thought this was the best way for him to revise everything while doing minimal reading.

Louis doesn’t tell him about Zayn, mainly because he doesn’t want the boy hating another teacher; not that he thinks Harry’s fond of any of them. Zayn he respects, at least, so Louis is going to be careful to keep it that way.

“Here, the first one’s from chemistry, ‘cause it’s the one you’re worst at, at this moment.” Louis speaks and Harry snorts. Standard response. “Here you go.”

“I don’t know how to do any of this.” Harry says as he stares at the sheet full of exercises in front of him.

“Which is why I brought you a book from the library.” Louis places it on his table. 

“This is torture.”

“Call it what you will, Styles. You’re doing this. Now give me your phone.”

Against his will, Harry fishes his phone out of his pocket and hands it to Louis.

For three hours, Louis sits in complete silence as he watches Harry hate on his homework  _ and _ on the book  _ and _ on the teacher, but by the end of it, Harry hands him everything done – for today – and Louis smiles triumphantly. 

The week goes by at the same rhythm. Harry doesn’t really look at Louis, just takes whatever the teacher gives him and executes it to the best of his abilities – or so he says. Louis can only judge what he’s correcting for his own classes, which is not great, but is something.

Other professors speak to him in the corridors and in the teachers’ lounge as if he is a stranger, someone who is working for the greater good, when, in reality, he’s not, he’s only doing his job – something that most of them forgot to do along the way just because it was easier. He hasn’t received any feedback on Harry’s assignments yet, but he asks them to give them to him as soon as possible.

On Friday, Harry shows up at Louis’ door by twelve thirty. 

“I’m- going out to lunch. Thought we’d agreed on two o’clock, every day?” He frowns, looking at Harry.

“We did. I’ll wait for you.” He says.

“You’re not going to eat anything? There’s time.”

“I don’t have money to eat, Mr. Tomlinson. So. I’ll wait for you.”

“What do you- this is a public school!”

“No shit, Sherlock!”

“Language.” Also, Louis can’t believe Harry says that.  _ Louis _ says that! “Why can’t you eat in the cafeteria with the other students, though?”

“Because you have to pay for it. And my parents can’t pay for it.” It looks like it pains Harry to say it. He doesn’t look like someone who likes to show weaknesses. 

“But- they’re- I mean. Isn’t there a way for you to get it for free? If you prove your family can’t pay?”

“I think there’s a percentage for it, and I applied too late. It doesn’t matter. I’m used to it. Go eat your lunch so we can come back on time and not waste any more of mine.” Harry finishes up the conversation and goes back to his phone.

Louis leaves the room heart broken, for the first time, and goes straight to James’s office to sort this out.

 

“The boy needs to  _ eat _ , for fuck’s sake.” Louis says.

“His name’s not on the list, Louis, there’s nothing I can do this semester. This is a government issue.” James replies.

“It’s not fair.”

“He missed the application window.”

“Still not fair.” He argues.

“I’m sorry.”

_ Sure you are _ , Louis doesn’t say. Instead, he thanks James for hearing him out and asks for next semester’s deadline – he’s going to make Harry apply in advance so this shit doesn’t happen again. For now, he goes out to have some lunch and get something for Harry.

He’s already expecting the guy to hate him even more. Hell, Harry’s probably going to scream and say he isn’t a charity case and that Louis is crossing a boundary and he needs to  _ stop _ . Maybe Louis is screaming it at himself inside his head at this exact moment. But he can’t, for the life of him, stop himself from getting the boy a burger and a coke on the way back.

Louis grew up having a good life. His family has never been wealthy, and definitely not rich for California’s life standard, but they’ve always been comfortable. Louis’ parents run a practice in San Francisco; his mom is a pediatric doctor and his father is a businessman, who deals with the contracts and whatnot. The clinic is not fancy nor is it renowned, but it’s _ theirs _ .

So yeah, Louis is privileged – apart from the whole gay thing; but even then, he grew up in _ San Francisco _ for fuck’s sake, one of the United State’s gay sanctuaries. Apart from his job and volunteering gigs, he’s never really encountered many people in need, so it is a shock when he sees someone who could so easily have been him going through something like that.

He thinks that he got lucky. And Harry didn’t. But he can still turn around; he just needs a little help. And no one works well on an empty stomach. No one should have to either. 

 

“Brought you something to eat-” he says entering the classroom. “And before you say anything dramatic straight out a gangster movie, just know this is as much for myself as it is for you. Maybe you’ll be less grumpy with a full stomach.” Louis finishes up.

“Thank you,” Harry replies. 

Louis’ eyes almost jump out of his face with how surprised he is.

“You’re welcome.” He responds. “Come to my desk when you finish eating, today you’re working on an essay for me.”

 

Week one ends in peace. 

 

-

 

Week two starts with Louis getting in late to work because of Zayn’s hair, which makes Louis rethink this whole  _ giving him a ride _ thing. The other teacher ran out of hair product this morning and simply  _ couldn’t leave home _ without it, so he went to the drugstore to get more, which made him twenty minutes late, which made  _ him and Louis _ fifteen minutes late to class.

When Louis gets to his classroom, most of his students are already there, including Harry, who snorts as if he’s saying  _ look who’s the bad boy now _ . Louis avoids his gaze, not wanting to get into a feud at eight in the morning with one of his students, and takes a sip of his to-go coffee, courtesy of an amazing Perrie Edwards. Seriously, what did Zayn do to deserve that woman?

“Morning, everyone,” he starts. “Today we’re going to talk about  _ The Hour of the Star _ . I take it everyone has finished reading it?” Louis asks and gets nods around the room. Harry looks completely lost, but then again he already expected it. “Good, good. So what will be in discussion today is the following quote, from the book…” And then he proceeds to write on the board.

_ Who has not asked himself at some time or other: am I a monster or is this what it means to be a person? _

He finishes up and turns around again, evaluating what the students think of the selected part. They have an interested look in their eyes, as if they’re ready to discuss, and that makes Louis the happiest.

“Now, what do you think? We’re going to discuss the characters further this month, but for today, I ask you this: are bad people monsters, or are they just people? Yes, Ron.” He calls the boy’s name, letting him know he can speak.

“I think people can turn into monsters.”

“Expand, please.”

“I think that if your family raised you right, you’re going to be a good person. But something can happen and turn you into a bad one, or, as the author calls it, a monster.”

“Okay, but what if nothing happens and you’re still bad?” Lizzy turns around and asks him.

“Then you were born a monster.”

“How can it be, though?”  Louis instigates. “Is it in your DNA? Is it spiritual? Yes, Meg.”

“I think we’re all born with both inside of us, and throughout our lives we choose which side to use.” She answers cleverly.

Harry snorts.

“Something you’d like to add, Mr. Styles?” Louis asks, knowing that he won’t say anything. Harry has never participated in a discussion.

“It’s just-” the boy starts.  _ What? _ “What’s the difference between a bad person and a monster then? Or is there neither? If a person who’s been good their whole life makes a bad decision, then are they automatically a monster?”

“Are you saying there should be something that measures an amount of good or bad?” Ron asks Harry.

“It’s exactly what I’m saying. I mean- it’s not fair to judge everyone by individual actions.”

“You sure you’re not saying that because you are more of a monster than a good person?” Ron smiles wickedly and Louis sees the exact moment Harry’s eyes widen and his nose inflates. He’s sure Harry’s gonna kill the boy on the spot when he gets up, but all he needs to do is say  _ Mr. Styles! _ very loudly and Harry snorts, sitting down.

“Now you, Ron-” Louis calls his attention. “D’you consider yourself a good person on a daily basis?”

“Yeah.”

“But if I were to judge you by your most recent shit action, wouldn’t I have the right to say you’re a complete jerk, therefore a bad person, therefore a monster?”

“I-”

“You wouldn’t like to be judged by one poor action alone, because you’re not that single action, are you?”

“No.”

Louis crosses his arm.

“So, is it fair to conclude that maybe Harry has a point?”

It’s probably the first time Louis refers to him by his first name.

“Yes.” The boy mumbles.

“Hm. So, back to Megan’s line of thinking and diving into the book… What is the character really about?”

The class continues on its normal pace then, as they discuss the characters and their roles in the story, and at the end of it Louis asks for everyone to write a review on it for next class.

One by one, the students start to empty the room and Harry keeps sitting there, looking down.

“Harry, go to your next class.” Louis says tiredly.

“You defended me today. Why?” He asks.

“Because you had a point and he was a jerk for no reason. I have no problem calling out students when they’re being idiots, which should be clear to you, since a little over a week ago I was at  _ your _ house.” The teacher smirks.

“Right. In that case, I’m sorry for whatever Johnny did to your car whilst we’re in this class.” He smiles and walks out of the room, backpack hanging heavily from one shoulder.

Holy fuck, what has he done now?

 

Louis can’t go outside until his lunch break, but when he does, he wants to throw a fit in the middle of the parking lot. His four tires are pierced and his whole car is tagged and  _ I’M GONNA KILL HARRY _ is the first thing Louis thinks. The second one is  _ I’M GONNA SPEND SO MUCH MONEY TO FIX IT _ . The third is  _ HOW THE HELL AM I GOING TO GET HOME TODAY? _

He tries to be a higher being, he really does, but as the students start to gather around him and whisper to each other, something builds up inside of Louis and he  _ has _ to turn around and go find Harry. Honestly,  _ screw _ being the higher being.

 

“HONESTLY WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?” Louis screams into the classroom as he slams the door behind him. “Do you know how much that is going to  _ cost _ me? You’re eighteen, I could have you fucking thrown in juvie for that!” He says.

“I said I was sorry.”

“Well, Harry, sorry doesn’t do  _ shit _ . You can go sell your drugs this afternoon because thanks to you and your delinquent friends, I’m gonna spend the rest of my day dealing with your doing.”

“Mr. Tomlinson-”

“Get lost, or Mark will hear about it, I fucking swear.” Louis says lowly, but seriously. Harry moves faster than Louis has ever seen him do so.

 

-

 

Even though everybody knows this is was Harry Styles’ work – combined with his gangster friends –, Louis decides on not telling James about it. When the principal asks, eventually, he simply tells him that  _ these things happen _ and  _ you know teenagers these days _ . Of course, inside, his blood is boiling, but once Louis gets home later that day and cools off, he remembers that Harry won’t become a better student – person – all at once, and that if he tells the faculty about it, everyone’s going to give up again after only eight days of actual work.

 

The teacher spends the rest of the day dealing with his car problem, as he had already imagined he would. He doesn’t spend too much money to transport the car to the garage, but the mechanic assures him that he will spend a  _ lot _ to get his car back in shape, so much that Louis considers buying a new one, but gives up immediately, because he can’t spend that kind of money right now.

Perrie is the one who drives him places, and then they end up at  _ A.M.  _ again, where Louis finds himself day-drinking on a freaking Monday. Seriously. 

“All right there, Lou?” Niall asks.

“Will be.” He answers.

“Thought week one had been good?” Perrie asks him.

“Yeah, so did I.” Louis sighs. “Pezza, honestly, thanks for driving me around today, you didn’t have to.”

“Shush it, it’s no problem.” The woman smiles. “The magazine’s driving me crazy with this editorial anyways…”

“Tell me about it.”

“You don’t care about fashion, Louis.” She rolls her eyes.

“I  _ love _ fashion, Perrie.” Louis states outraged. “C’mon, out with it. What’s this editorial about?”

As Perrie talks about her day, Louis feels the anger leave his body little by little. He indulges her in her stories and even gives an opinion here and there; she laughs at him and confirms that he’s actually  _ horrible _ at fashion talk. But well, he tried. 

It’s only around seven p.m. that they leave the bar; Perrie needs to drop him off and still pick Zayn up, who had to spend the afternoon at school. Louis bids her goodbye with a kiss on her cheek and a promise to hang out again soon – preferably when he can actually get drunk.

 

-

 

Louis doesn’t even recognize Harry for the rest of the week. The boy doesn’t open his mouth and doesn’t really look Louis in the eyes, much like the beginning of last week, but that’s fine, because Louis doesn’t feel like talking to him either. So he gives him assignments, Harry does them, and that’s all that happens.

On Friday, Harry thanks Louis for not going to James. Louis simply nods and sends him on his merry way.

 

-

 

The problem is: they started this too late. Harry has barely two months to get good grades on his final tests, and Louis feels like two months isn’t enough. So he can’t really be mad at him forever. Or, well, he can, but he can also swallow the anger and try to give him some actual help, before it’s too late.

So, it’s on a Wednesday that he decides to actually sit by Harry’s side instead of at his own desk. It’s the first time Louis has gotten close to him since the week before, when he completely trashed his car. When Harry raises his head, his eyes are guarded, almost as if he’s expecting Louis to talk down to him.

“What?” He asks.

“Have you eaten anything today?” Louis asks him.

“Yes.” He mumbles.

“When?”

“Why do you care?” The student snorts and looks back at his paper. Louis keeps staring at him in a way that he  _ knows _ bothers him. Harry sighs and drops his pencil, looking at Louis once again. “In the morning. I had coffee, bread and butter. Alright, Mr. Tomlinson?”

“Are you hungry?” He asks. “I- have a banana on my desk, you can eat it for now. I’m full.”

“Whatever.”

Louis gets up and grabs the banana from his desk, going back to the middle of the room and sitting by Harry’s side. He hands Harry the banana and pretends he doesn’t hear the boy’s stomach grumble. Louis’ insides get twisted. 

Harry eats in silence as he stares ahead, so Louis fills the silence.

“I received all of your assignments already graded. Did you know you got a D plus in all of them? You even got a C minus in two.” Louis says and Harry stiffens immediately. “That’s good news.”

“Right.”

“So, I thought today I could help you with your creative writing assignment. You’ll have to write a tale as your final for this class of mine.” Louis tells him. “I was hoping I’d get more than your sex endeavors in that one.” He tries to joke. Harry doesn’t respond. “You should go drink some water…”

_ “Why are you being like this?” _ Harry turns to him conflicted. Eyes half angry, half curious.

“Like… What?”

“Nice, and worried. If I were someone important, I’d think this was some kind of bet or that you’re being paid, but since I’m literally no one, I don’t get it.” He responds. And continues. “I didn’t ask for your  _ help _ , I almost hit you, I screamed at you and had someone destroy your fucking car. And you’re still sitting here talking to me about my grades. Honestly, Mr. Tomlinson, what is in it for you?” Harry scoffs. He just doesn’t get it.

And it hurts. It hurts Louis that someone so young thinks they’re unimportant. No one should feel like this, definitely not an eighteen year old who has his entire life ahead of him.

“You did apologize to me in advance.” Louis replies as a joke.

“Well, I didn’t mean my apology.”

“Too bad, I’ve already accepted it.” He shrugs. “So, your assignment, what do you want to write about?”

“Nothing.”

“Then you’ll fail.”

“Then I’ll fail.” He shrugs.

“See, I think you want me to believe you don’t care about your grades, but you actually do.” Louis says.

“See, I think you’re trying too hard to be a psychologist or a big brother, but you aren’t. So why don’t you leave me the fuck alone to try and write this shit and go back to your desk? I don’t need a baby sitter.” Harry finishes angrily.

“Oh,  _ see _ , I think you do.” Louis smirks. He actually smirks. Harry looks so pissed off. “Because if you  _ were _ a grown up, you’d know to  _ never  _ speak to a teacher like that. I’m not your gangster best friend, Harry Styles. I’m your teacher. I’m someone who is invested in your future because I believe you  _ have _ one. And I’m someone you are going to respect whether you want to or not. Get a fucking grip on reality. And if you don’t want to do it for me or for yourself, do it for your parents.”

At that, the boy recoils in himself. It’s just like Louis has spit in his face. Or slapped him right across his cheeks.

“Do not fucking mention my parents.”

“Do your homework and get your grades to a B minus on your assignments before the end of next month. Then you’ll only have to worry about your finals.” Louis finishes and gets up. “We can talk about what you have to write for my class when you’re less… Temperamental.”  

“Funny you calling me that when you barged into the room the other day saying you’d throw me in juvie.”

“You  _ had _ just had my car destroyed.” Louis points out.

“Thought you’d forgiven me.” He replies cheekily.

“Thought you hadn’t meant your apology,” the teacher smiles and finally sits at his desk, leaving Harry alone. Harry, who has a smirk on his face.

 

Louis can’t believe he was  _ bantering _ with a student. 

 

-

 

Harry finishes up late on Friday, which is when he finally decides to start writing something that isn’t about sex and drugs. He gets three paragraphs done in two hours, and it’s like his head’s going to crack open at any second. Louis watches him painfully and then turns back to his own phone as he exchanges texts here and there with his family.

Louis misses them dearly. Last time he saw them was during the holidays, which was also his birthday, and so much has happened since then. They’re almost in May, the weather is getting  _ better _ , and Lottie has a  _ boyfriend _ , and a handsome one at that. He smiles down at his screen when she sends him a picture and captions it with  _ MINE _ . Louis congratulates her on finding a straight man in San Francisco and then switches back to his mom, who is yelling at him about chicken. (She doesn’t know she is yelling, by the way. She just forgets to turn off caps lock.)

His family is pretty standard, if you ask him. Louis has a mom, a dad, and three siblings. There’s Lottie, who is nineteen, and then there’s Ernest and Doris, who are three year old twins. He doesn’t understand  _ why _ his parents decided to go through all of that again after  _ so much time _ , but he admires them, in a way. They say they missed having kids in the house, and Louis, who is crazy about children himself, understands  _ that _ .

He hasn’t lived with the smaller ones much, though, only during holidays and vacation periods, since he didn’t live in his childhood home anymore when they were born. Still, they call him  _ Achoo _ because of his constant sneezing when he goes back to Cali, and facetime at least once a week.

Lottie, though… Lottie is Louis’ girl. He is every bit as protective with her as she is with him; they grew up together, and they’re a team. She’s one of his best friends, even with the age gap, and they tell each other everything. The two of them and Jay make a little gang, and Mark’s always saying that when the twins grow up he’ll team up with them too. It makes for funny family banter.

More often than he’d like to admit, Louis wonders if one day he will have any of that.

To this day, he’s only had two serious relationships, one when he was his sister’s age, 19, and it lasted eight months, and another one when he was twenty one, which lasted one year and a half. Now, Louis is very much aware that those aren’t really considered  _ long-term _ relationships, but it was the longest he was able to stand someone.

Louis just… Gets bored easily, is the thing. He meets a person and he finds them interesting enough for a while there, but then they simply… Lose the spark. There’s no surprise anymore, no wonder in anything they do, no… Passion. Therefore, Louis gets bored.

He isn’t here on this earth to be  _ tied _ to anyone. He doesn’t want to live with a person who stops dreaming, who doesn’t aspire for things, who keeps him in the sand when all he wants to do is swim in the ocean. Still, Louis  _ wants _ someone. God, he does. He wants someone to share adventures with, he wants someone to have kids with and live just as happily as his parents do.

But it’s hard to find someone who will dive in clear water with you instead of making you toast in the sun. He doesn’t dwell much on it. Instead, he enjoys what life has to offer him, and meets some nice guys along the way, knowing that they’ll be just that: guys along the way.

 

His phone vibrates in his hands again at the same time Harry clears his throat, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“I’m not done, but it’s time. Can I go?” Harry asks when Louis looks at him.

“You were supposed to hand it in today, Harry.” Louis sighs. Harry doesn’t answer. “Yeah, all right, if you promise me you’ll work on that during the weekend.”

The student snorts.

“Not gonna happen.”

“And why not?”

“I’m gonna work on something that actually makes me money on the weekend,” he answers Louis, getting up and stuffing things into his backpack.

“Things such as selling pot?” Louis asks. Harry shrugs. “Thought you’d stopped with that.”

“Only during the week, and only till my grades get to a C plus, remember?” He says and it’s as if a dark cloud is passing through his eyes.

What the-

“Harry…” Louis calls him, collecting his things so he can leave with the boy. “Are you purposefully keeping your grades to a C  _ minus _ so you don’t have to deal after school again?” He questions him, almost in wonder.

“Of course  _ not _ .” He walks to the door.

“I don’t believe you.” The teacher follows him.

“Good thing I’m not worried about what you think.”

“What I  _ do _ believe is that you can do better, because you’re a smart guy. And the reason you are keeping your grades to a C  _ minus _ is because you don’t want to go back to dealing.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t I?” He asks and Harry stops walking in the hallway, turning back to Louis with a determined look on his face.

“My mom works as a cleaning lady and my father has had the same job at a damn factory ever since I was born. They don’t make enough money to pay mortgage and bills  _ and _ food. My father thinks that the money we use for food comes from Mom’s tips, but it’s been way too long since it’s coming from  _ me _ . Or, well, from rich people at schools who buy pot from me.” He clarifies. Louis can’t speak. “We’ve spent the last month without heating in the fucking house, because we couldn’t pay the light bill since my mom’s money went to actual food, since  _ I _ couldn’t help. So no, Mr. Tomlinson, I am not keeping my grades  _ lower _ because I don’t want to deal anymore. There isn’t a  _ choice _ here.”

“There’s always a choice, Harry.”

“Tell me that when you’re the one who can’t sleep because it’s too cold in this fucking city. Or when you spend an entire day without eating anything. Till then, stay the fuck away from me, because you’ve done enough.” He says harshly and stomps in the hallway again, walking faster and faster.

Louis has to run to reach him, and when he does, he grabs Harry by the arm, making the boy turn around and almost fall onto Louis’ body. He avoids it, and thank God he does; that would’ve been a disaster.

“Why don’t you get  _ another _ job? As literally  _ anything _ ?”

“Because this is what I grew up in.” He replies. “Because someone else has already _thrown me in juvie_ , when I was fifteen. And not everyone wants to take chances on reformed boys. Now _please_ , let me fucking go?”

“Will you have anything eat tonight?” Louis asks weakly.

“Yes.” Harry responds. “Stop looking at me like that.  _ Stop _ pitying me.”

“I’m not-”

“Yes, you are, and I don’t need it. My life is what it is, and I’m  _ fine _ with that.” He says, and it’s final. Louis doesn’t believe it, but it won’t do any good to any of them to continue this discussion. Not now anyways.

The teacher sighs, defeated.

“All right, Harry, if that’s what you want. But on Monday we’ll keep working on this same paper, okay? I wasn’t kidding when I said I didn’t want to read about your sex life again.” Louis warns him seriously.

“I  _ am _ working on something half decent. It’s just difficult.” The student complies. “May I go now, Mr. Tomlinson?”

“Yes, Harry. You can go.” 

 

One step forward, three steps back. One forward again. 

  
  



	3. IN REPAIR

 

**_"Not together, but getting there."_ **

 

 

Monday comes sooner than Louis would like, but then again, that’s Monday for everyone. He gets up at ass o’clock in the morning, because his car isn’t ready yet and Zayn won’t be able to give him a ride today, so he’ll have to ride the subway.

Louis walks through the apartment with his eyes barely opened and he avoids turning the lights on at all costs; he absolutely hates being up this early and often wonders why the hell he didn’t go looking for something that would allow him to wake up after eight in the morning. He does his routine mechanically, from shower to coffee to picking some actual clothes, and then he’s out.

The weather is a bit more forgiving today, so he at least has _this_ going on for him. When he exits his building, the wind still hits him in the face, but as March is coming to an end, the snow is becoming less and less frequent, much to the teacher’s happiness.

On his way to the school, Louis replies to texts from family and friends, and even makes plans to see some of them next weekend. Calvin and Oli – his best friends from Princeton – have been pestering him for a visit ever since Louis moved out of their college apartment, and decided that if he isn’t going to visit them anytime soon, they’ll have to come to him.

It makes him happy. Even though Louis has found a good friend in Zayn and a fun buddy in Niall, he still misses the people he’s left behind. He thinks it’ll be good for him to actually remember how young he is without having to worry about what anyone else will think, so he tells them he can’t wait to show them the city, and that they’d better prepare their livers to get _wasted_.

And, if Louis is being honest, knowing that he’ll see his idiot friends on the weekend is the only thing that is going to get him through this week, he’s sure.

 

Harry is particularly difficult in the mornings, he knows it. But today he is defying Louis – something he’s never done before –, so the teacher thinks that the best way to actually confront this is to _not_ confront this at all. He ignores whatever snarky remark the student throws at him, and focuses on the other students.

Like Louis’ said, he hates Mondays.

 

-

 

When Louis comes back to his classroom in the afternoon, Harry’s already there, as always, only this time he’s actually focused on writing something, much to Louis’ surprise.

“Afternoon, Styles, are you less snappy now?” Louis asks as he drops his stuff on his desk.

“At you? Yes. At this fucking paper? Not a chance.” He replies without looking up.

“What’s going on?” Louis asks and Harry snorts. Of course he does. “Harry, look at me.”

Louis has found out that whenever he calls him _Harry_ instead of _Styles_ the student feels a little bit disarmed. It’s… Interesting, and Louis only uses it when he needs to.

“What?” Harry asks.

“Is this the assignment from Friday? The one I told you to work on over the weekend?”

“Yes, it is the one I told you I wasn’t going to work on over the weekend,” the student smiles cheekily. He thinks he’s funny. It takes tremendous effort for Louis not to roll his eyes. “I can’t fucking write anything, so you might as well fail me right now.”

“That’s not true, you’ve got… Three paragraphs written.”

“Yeah, and they’re shit.” Harry hands him the paper so Louis can take a look.

“What are you trying to write?”

“A tale? I guess?”

Louis takes a look at what Harry’s written, and _surprised_ doesn’t even begin to cover it.

 

_Jake will never forget the first time he saw him._

_It’s funny because he has a terrible memory-storage in his brain; he doesn’t remember many things. Hell, he rarely remembers what he has for breakfast when he gets to the end of the day. But he does recall every little detail about that afternoon._

_He was running late to meet his boss for a conference, but his craving for ice cream spoke louder than anything else. It was one of those desires that he just couldn’t ignore. Italy had never been that sunny before (it was his third time in the country) and it was so damn hot. Don’t get Jake wrong, as someone who traveled a lot for work, he was used to different types of weather, but he guessed that his true European self would always feel overwhelmed by temperatures that rose higher than thirty degrees._

Louis doesn’t know what makes him more surprised: the fact that Harry’s apparently writing a gay, romantic tale, or the fact that he can _actually_ write; of course the paragraphs are simple and juvenile, but the latter is exactly what the student is, so Louis _is_ very impressed.

 

“Isn’t thirty degrees very cold?” Is the first thing he asks when he’s composed enough to speak.  Louis has learned that no matter how good he thinks a student’s paper is at first, he needs to always challenge them to become better by the end of the semester. With Harry, he won’t act differently.

“In Fahrenheit, yes, but it’s hot in Celsius, which is what they use in Europe.” Harry responds.

Louis knew that.

“Hm. And why Europe?” He asks.

“Italy is famous for its gelatos.” Harry shrugs. “And I’ve always wanted to go there, so.”

“Hm…” Louis ponders. “D’you know where you want to take the story?”

“Yes. I just can’t put it down.”

“All right. I can help you with that. What do you want to happen next?”

“I want Jake to meet this other guy, who’s going to be sort of famous but not really.” At Louis’ frown, Harry explains. “In my mind, he’s kind of a has been- but one everyone still remembers anyways?”

“Like an artist who’s retired but is still in the media?”

“Exactly that, yes.”

“Okay.” Louis agrees. “Uh- here, I think you should write a bit more about the place and about Jake, like- one or two paragraphs, before you introduce the next character.”

“Fine,” Harry sighs. “And then?”

“Then you write how they meet, make it a surprise.” Louis knows he is smiling now, but he can’t contain it.

“This is not fucking fun, you know?” Harry asks.

“Speak for yourself. I’m having a lot of fun watching you write something actually decent.” Louis says and gets up, walking towards his desk. “Concentrate, Styles, and get it done by the end of this class. I have a bunch of quizzes to grade.”

 

They both work together and in silence. Louis doesn’t really like working _at work_. He always feels uneasy and bored, and ends up not getting anything done, which is why he usually takes everything home, where he can put on some music or turn the TV on and have a little bit of fun while working.

Today, though, Louis finds himself being productive; maybe not as productive as he would with Kim Kardashian speaking in the background about Kendall’s clothes, but still… He corrects everything and even checks his phone for new notifications, and then he notices it’s already getting late, so he starts collecting his things.

“Hey, time’s up.” Louis tells his student.

“I’m- I don’t know if I’m done.” Harry sighs.

“Why’s that? You haven’t been putting anything down for the last thirty minutes. Yeah, I noticed.” He says as the boy raises his eyebrows.

“I want to say it’s ready, but I don’t know.” Harry gets up. Louis notices he looks tired; as if writing really drained him. “This is the best I could do, and I’m not sure I can take it anymore.”

“Am I torturing you, Styles, is that what you’re saying?”

“Yes, that’s what I’m saying. So if you’re okay with it, I’d like to go home now. And also, I won’t be able to make it tomorrow afternoon.” Harry tells him.

“Uh- and why not?”

“I need to take my mom to the doctor.”

“And how do I know you’re not lying?” Louis crosses his arm.

“You can either trust me or ask Mark, I don’t really give a fuck. I just thought I’d let you know.”

“Oh- there you are.” The teacher muses. “I was wondering where all the attitude had gone.

Harry snorts.

“I sometimes try to be nice, but it takes so much of my energy.” He replies.

“And I keep thinking you play the _opposites_ game with me. You act all tough and it gets so tiring that sometimes you let your guard down and relax, and what comes out is a nice guy.”

“And _I’m_ still wondering why you think I want to be saved.” Harry says decidedly and throws his backpack over his shoulder, walking towards the door.

“It’s not about you wanting to be saved, Harry, it’s about you _needing_ it. _I_ don’t really give a fuck about what you want.” Louis replies tiredly. “You can go now. Hope everything goes well with your mom.”

 

-

 

As Louis already expected, Harry doesn’t show up on Tuesday morning, but having such a bad headache, Louis thanks the heavens for it. What pisses him off is when he’s collecting his things to go home early and Simon Cowell of all people walks up to him, asking if they can talk, but with a tone that says _this is actually an order and not a request_.

Louis truly hates people like him, who think they are better at their jobs just because he’s older. Simon is not the first one to act this way towards the teacher, but he sure as hell is the one Louis can tolerate the least, and he blames Zayn – who told him some horrible stories about the head of the chemistry department.

“How are you doing, Tomlinson?” The older man asks, patting Louis on the shoulder.

“I’m good, how are you?” He asks back, stepping back, out of Simon’s reach.

“Good, good. You’ve actually domesticated Styles, who would’ve thought?” Simon says as he takes two sheets of paper out of his bag.

“He’s not an animal,” is what Louis responds.

“Well, he sure as hell used to act like one.”

“So he’s better in your classes?”

“Yes, he is. He got a C plus on his mock test, but he needs a _B_ plus to actually pass my class, so I thought I’d pass the information along, since somehow he takes you more seriously than the rest of us who have been here forever.” He all but shoves the mock test in Louis’ hands, obligating the teacher to read it.

Louis abhors chemistry and doesn’t even know what he’s looking at, but he feels a wave of pride inside of him when he sees that Harry actually got more than half of the test right.

“I’ll make sure he studies more of this.” Louis says. “May I keep this test? I’ll tell him to rectify the mistakes he’s made.”

“I corrected the test during first period and he wasn’t there.”

“He needed to go to the doctor with his mom.” He answers way too quickly.

“Have heard that one before.”

“I can vouch for him,” Louis assures Simon.

“Course you can,” the man smirks. “Well, you have it. The answers are in his books anyways. Tell him to pay attention next time or I’m failing him, I don’t care if you’ve made a saint out of that boy.”

Louis doesn’t tell him that he doesn’t believe in _saints_ or anything too religious, but if he were to, Simon wouldn’t recognize a saint if it hit him in the face, what with belonging to hell and all that.

“Yeah, cool.” Louis responds. “Was that it?”

“Yes. Thank you, Tomlinson.”

“Cowell,” he nods and walks away.

 

-

 

 

Wednesday is basic, lacking a better word. His classes are all right, Harry is quiet, and at the end of the day Louis meets Zayn to get a ride back home and his friend invites him to dinner. The teacher isn’t one to deny homemade free food, so he hops on Zayn’s motorcycle and listens to _Nirvana_ all the way to Zayn and Perrie’s place.

The other teacher has this whole mysterious thing going on for him, always dressing in black and listening to classic rock bands, but the truth is he’s a softie. The other day they decided to get together and watch movie while Perrie was traveling and Zayn actually picked his wife’s favorite romcom because he missed her; Louis will never ever let him hear the end of it.

They sing together in the wind and celebrate when the rain falls heavily once they’re already inside Zayn’s apartment.

The teacher gets started on the food while Perrie isn’t there yet, but when she gets home half an hour later, she takes control of the kitchen, saying she likes Zayn’s cooking but actually _loves_ her own.

“Well, you’re lucky you live together and you both can cook, I can’t cook to save my life.” Louis tells them.

“I taught him how to cook a while ago actually,” Perrie tells him. “Zayn used to be a lost cause, too. I can help you out if you want…” She offers.

“I’d actually hate that,” Louis confesses and the couple laughs. “But I think it’s necessary. Thanks, Pezza.” He raises his beer bottle.

“During Summer, yeah? We’ll have more time,” Perrie says.

“It’s a deal.” Louis winks.

Perrie tells them about her day and Zayn looks at her like she rules the world; only when she’s finished with her stories and he’s commented on them is when Zayn starts talking about the school. He talks about his projects and how there’s a math marathon coming up.

Louis doesn’t understand how someone so _cool_ like Zayn can be into _mathematics_ of all things, but Zayn argues the same about Louis, so, at the end of the day, they both agree they have very different tastes, and that’s quite all right.

“I used to be horrible at math,” Perrie says.

“I was decent, but I hated it, so I’d only get passing grades.” Louis tells them.

“Speaking of, I know we’re relaxing, but- can we talk about Harry Styles?”

“Uh- sure.”

“Wait, I’m gonna show you.” Zayn gets up from the stool and disappears into the house, coming back a minute or so later.

Perrie’s focused on the stove and Louis stops setting the table when Zayn hands him a sheet of paper. It looks like Simon’s, so Louis is pretty sure it’s yet another mock test.

“He got a C minus…” Louis scans the paper. “How much does he need to pass, do you know?”

“A B minus, but that’s not the problem. No matter how much he studies, he isn’t going to pass, Louis.”

“Why not?”

“Here,” Zayn sits down and pulls Louis to sit by his side, a crease between his eyebrows. “I know you don’t know math, but check these questions…”

Louis reads the test over, but doesn’t understand much. He can see that Harry made all the calculations and they wound up being wrong, but there’s nothing new about that. It happens, right?

“So, he doesn’t know how to add and multiply?” Louis asks. “I mean- I remember doing things in high school and thinking _I got this_ , then my result was three thousand and seven, but the options where two, ten and five.” He shrugs.

“When you got the calculations wrong.” Zayn offers. “His calculations are all right, Louis. Like, everything, till the last number. He just wrote random numbers at the end.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying he could’ve gotten an A plus, here.” His friend tells him. “But I don’t think he wanted to.”

“If he gets his grades up to a C plus, all of them, he has to go back to selling pot for the guys from his neighborhood.”

“Shit.” Zayn says. Even Perrie turns around and crosses her arms, looking way too crestfallen for a boy she doesn’t even know.

“I accused him of that a while ago, he basically told me to shove it.” Louis smiles bitterly. “Fuck, Harry.” He whispers.

“Never thought I’d say this, but he’s smart as fuck, Lou. No one got an A plus, they all missed the seventh question, but Harry’s logic was _perfect._ He knew how to solve everything. He just didn’t want to.”

Louis doesn’t want to admit that he is _sad_ , but he is. Harry might act like a jerk sometimes, but he’s eighteen years old. And he’s _intelligent_ . And he’s fucking up his chances on purpose just so he won’t have to sell drugs anymore, but that’s terrible too, because he doesn’t have _money_ to help at home as long as he doesn’t sell and…

“Jesus.” Louis sighs. “He’s good at writing too.” Louis tells Zayn. “I haven’t read his tale yet, but he showed me the beginning of it and there wasn’t anything wrong with his grammar or-”

“It’s really good that you’re helping him, Louis.” Perrie offers. “Just seems like he doesn’t want much help then.”

“He does.” Zayn says. “He’s apparently just not used to having it.”

 

Later that night, Louis sits down to read Harry’s tale, genuinely curious to know how it turned out.

He goes from the top, wanting to have a full view on the story.

 

_Jake will never forget the first time he saw him._

_It’s funny because he has a terrible memory-storage in his brain; he doesn’t remember many things. Hell, he rarely remembers what he has for breakfast when he gets to the end of the day. But he does recall every little detail about that afternoon._

_He was running late to meet his boss for a meeting, but his craving for ice cream spoke louder than anything else. It was one of those desires that he just couldn’t ignore. Italy had never been that sunny before (it was his third time in the country) and it was so damn hot. Don’t get Jake wrong, as someone who traveled a lot for work, he was used to different types of weather, but he guessed that his true European self would always feel overwhelmed by temperatures that rose higher than thirty degrees._

_Anyway, there he was, struggling with his too hot clothes and too long fringe dreaming about a gelato… The ice cream place wasn’t crowded, so he knew it wasn’t going to take long – his boss could wait a little while, right?_

_The nice lady asked what he wanted and he started looking at his options – if he had been having one of his deep moments, Jake would probably actually wonder about what he wanted in life, but in that moment he was completely focused on choosing a flavor._

_That was when he saw him._

_He was standing there with a two thousand dollar royal blue blazer, painted-on-skin trousers and YSL boots, thanking the girl for his ice cream. Jake couldn’t believe it when he spoke to him. Sometimes he still can’t._

_“The peppermint one is amazing,” he said to Jake after witnessing his indecision for far too long, apparently. His voice was even better than his looks, Jake wasn’t sure he’d ever heard such deep, enticing voice._

_“You sure?” Jake asked and he nodded, curls bouncing by the side of his head. “The peppermint one, please,” he then asked the very nice girl across from him. “It better be good!”_

_“It is,” the gorgeous man assured him._

_“Well… Hi,” Jake said awkwardly. “I’m Jake.”_

_“Mark. And- hi”, he smiled. He fucking smiled. And from then on Jake just knew that he had found his favorite smile in the whole wide world._

_The problem was: Jake was in a hurry. He waited for his ice cream impatiently as he texted his boss “I’m on my way”. The building was just around the corner anyway._

_Jake couldn’t stop staring at him, but he couldn’t think of anything to say but the stupidest thing ever:_

_“What brings you here?” He asked._

_(He knew who the guy was and what he did for a living, but at that point in life they were too far away. Jake was no longer a teenager crushing on his sister’s favorite singer and he wasn’t the biggest pop star in the world anymore, although still in the top ten for sure.)_

_“Work,” he responded when he could’ve easily said_ I wanted an ice cream, you idiot _. “I’m trying to launch my own clothing line… You?”_

_“Trying to convince my boss that buying a hotel here is a good idea,” Jake replied._

_“So, you’re a lawyer then?”_

_“An international business consultant,” he offered._

_“Fancy,” Mark smiled again._

_“Nothing like a world-wide famous popstar who’s about to go into fashion, now am I?”_

_“Guilty as charged,” he laughed weakly._

_Jake looked at the clock on the wall behind him and knew he had to go. What else to say but “good luck and goodbye?” That’s it. Nothing._

_They finished the conversation then with a (clearly I don’t want to go) “nice to meet you” and went their separate ways. So many things had been left unsaid, so many would’ve beens fit in fifteen minutes._

_Jake left the ice cream parlor with a weird feeling that only went away two years later, when he saw Mark again – it was at a gala event in New York. Their eyes met across the room. And Mark remembered him. He. Remembered. Him._

_And this time… Well, this time Jake wasn’t in a hurry._

 

Louis finishes reading Harry’s tale and sits back in his chair not actually believing what he is reading. This is good. This is actually really, really good, and even a little bit emotional. Upon finishing it, Louis’ mind already creates a number of scenarios for this story to continue; this could end up being such a good book.

The worst part is that Harry thinks this is shit.

At the end of the week when Louis returns his students’ assignments, the boy looks half scared, half ashamed upon receiving his. Louis has never witnessed so much confusion as the one that goes through Harry’s eyes at the moment he looks at his grade. His eyes fly from the sheet of paper to Louis and Louis smiles as he says _congratulations, Styles_.

 

-

 

He survived. This is the only thing Louis thinks when he exits the school on Friday afternoon and takes a taxi to the mechanic shop where he’ll finally get his car back. The traffic still isn’t bad, because it’s lunchtime, and Louis is thankful for that. His friends are on a plane on the way here, and this means he’ll have time to get the car, grab some lunch and then drive to the airport to pick them up.

According to Calvin, he wanted to drive, but Oli was too lazy to make it a proper road trip, which is understandable, but makes Louis miss the time they’d drive through nights on end, visiting different states whenever they had some time off from college.

Louis really can’t complain about his youth, and he doesn’t pretend it is almost over either, and those boys are exactly the reminder that he sometimes needs.

 

They arrive at around four, and when they find Louis in the Chicago International Airport parking lot, they all but throw him on the floor with how tight they hug him.

“Missed you, you dick,” Oli says messing up Louis’ hair as Calvin punches him on the arm. _Oh, the straights_ , Louis musses in his mind.

“Stop punching me, asshole.” He complains to Calvin and then laughs, moving to hug them both at the same time. “Missed you too. Fucking hell, you look old, Calvin. You don’t look a day older, Oli.”

“Neither do you, Tommo. Our Cal-Cal here has gray hair, can you believe?”

“It’s genetic, okay?” Calvin instinctively runs his fingers through his _ridiculous_ hair. “And stress.”

“How’s the hospital, Cal?” Louis asks as he opens the trunk for them to put their backpacks in.

“Driving me insane and making me elderly, clearly,” he complains, opening the passenger door to get in, Oli getting comfortable in the backseat.

“Are the hours any better?” Louis asks and closes the door on his side, starting the car right as his friend starts replying.

“Nah, not really.  Us nurses don’t really get to complain, though.”

“Louis, Calvin is banging a hot girl that is on the same shifts as he is; he _really_ doesn’t get to complain here.”

“You sneaky son of a bitch…” Louis laughs. “What about you, Ol? You hiding any girlfriends from me?”

“Nah, dude- just the not so regular hook ups, you know how it is.”

“I do.” He agrees, he’s the same.

 

Truth is, Louis hasn’t really been having much strength to go out there and find hookups. He’s been fooling around here and there when he musters up the courage to go out with Niall, but mostly he booty calls Perrie’s friend from work who is way too interested in him, but knows exactly what Louis has to offer at the moment.

He’s just not in a romantic phase of his life; whenever he thinks about things like that, he thinks about himself in the future, but right now… Right now Louis doesn’t see himself putting roots down with anyone, not when he’s barely accustomed to the city and has no idea if he’ll want to be here years from now.

 

They only stop at Louis’ flat to change into better clothes and drop their things, and then they hail a cab to Niall’s pub. Louis had promised the Texan that he’d take his friends there, and he’d promised his friends he’d introduce them to the new people here.

As it is, they get to the _A.M._ a little bit after eight, thanks to Chicago’s horrible traffic in rush hour. When they arrive, Zayn and Perrie are already in a booth, making googly eyes at each other. Louis pretends to gag as he makes himself noticeable.

“Guys, these are Zayn and Perrie. I pretend I don’t love them, but I totally already do. Zayn, Pezz, these are Calvin and Oli, I met them during my first semester at college.”

“Aren’t you gonna tell them you love us?” Oli asks, throwing an arm around his shoulder.

“I don’t lie, Oliver.” Louis rolls his eyes ad sits down.

“You just did, idiot.”

 

Unsurprisingly, Zayn gets along amazingly with the guys, but Perrie finds them a bit disgusting; they _are_ Louis’ ugliest and least polite friends indeed, so he doesn’t blame the girl; he does laugh a lot, though. When Niall decides his shift is over, he puts someone else in his place and sits down with them, which is when Perrie decides she’ll go to the restroom because _men are horrible and your jokes suck_.

Zayn laughs lightly and pecks her mouth before she gets up, and Louis can’t help but notice how they _always_ do this; they’ve been together for years and still act like they’re in their honeymoon phase. Not for the first or tenth time, he thinks that’s true love right there.

“Don’t you miss Texas, Nialler?” Oli asks him, voice already slurred after so much beer. It must be midnight, Louis isn’t sure.

“Not in the slightest.”

“Are they as racist and homophobic as everyone thinks they are?” Calvin asks. He’s also Californian, like Louis. He doesn’t really understand prejudiced people – not that they don’t exist in California, just… They’re just outnumbered by more decent human beings.

“Most of them, yeah. Mostly in the countryside. You can find some really good people in Houston or Austin, where I’m from. It still doesn’t compare to here or where you and Louis are from, for example.”

“Have you ever been to Cali?” Louis asks.

“Once, but I was still a teenager, didn’t even enjoy it properly.”

“Oh, we’ll have to change that, mate. You look like you’d love it there.”

“It’s true, looks like LA spit on you to be honest…” Calvin jokes.

And so the night goes on. They keep drinking and talking and at some point they decide it’s a great idea to play pool, and it ends up in disaster when Oli trips over his own foot and lands with his upper body on the table, spilling beer everywhere.

Everyone laughs a lot and Perrie even instagrams a picture of Oli looking miserable. Louis makes sure she sends him the original – he’ll print that and keep it on his wall. He’s very sentimental when it comes to moments like this; he’s pretty sure one day he’s going to look back at these days and find them the best time of his life, so he holds on to them.

It’s not that Louis is a person who lives in the past or that he doesn’t believe his best days are ahead of him, it’s just that he’s very fond of these years, and he doesn’t want to forget them, ever.

 

Their night is interrupted when Louis’ phone rings, and he finds it weird, because no one ever calls him, at least not at half past midnight. Louis vaguely remembers telling David – Perrie’s coworker aka Louis’ booty call – that he’d be with his friends this weekend, so he doesn’t know who could possibly be calling him.

 _This is a charged call from the Fifth Division of the Chicago Police Department; please say I accept if you want to proceed with this call_.

“I accept,” Louis manages to say in his drunken state, and he’s pretty sure it comes out as a question.

 _“Is this Louis Tomlinson?”_ An unfamiliar voice asks.

“Yes?”

_“Are you sure or are you asking me?”_

“It’s Louis, who the hell is this?”

_“Hi, my name’s Liam Payne, I live in the apartment one floor below you?”_

“All right… Yeah, hi.”

_“I’d have called you from my phone but I have no battery left and your pupil doesn’t have a cellphone on him, so we had to come to the station.”_

“My pupil?”

_“Harry Styles? He says he knows you.”_

“Uh- he’s my student.” What the fuck? This just gets weirder and weirder.

 _“Well, yeah. Your student got himself into a fight tonight and the only reason he didn’t end up behind bars is because of me. I need to drop him off somewhere, though, and there’s no way in hell I’m driving into his district right now.”_ Louis can hear Harry complaining in the background, saying _I can go by myself_ , and Liam’s voice much clearer speaking to him but into Louis’ ear. _“You can’t, Styles.”_

“Officer Payne?” Louis asks.

_“You can call me Liam.”_

“Yeah, Liam, uh… What exactly do you want me to do?” Louis asks.

_“I’m at the end of my shift, about to leave; could you… Take him in? Just for the night? I’ll drive him back tomorrow morning.”_

“Liam, I’m drunk.” Louis states, even though he feels awkwardly sober right now.

_“You don’t sound drunk.”_

_Well, not anymore_ , Louis thinks.

“I’m at a bar. I can get home in fifteen?”

 _“I’ll be there in twenty.”_ Liam tells him. _“Thank you, Louis_.”

 

He doesn’t respond; instead, he hangs up the phone and walks towards his booth to collect his wallet and keys. Right now, he’s a mixture of angry and worried and he is downright exasperated.

What the hell is he going to do with his two best friends _and_ Harry Styles in his apartment? Tonight was supposed to be fun, not a shit show.

Oh, well.

 

“Guys, we gotta go.” Louis calls them a bit louder than necessary.

“Why?”

“Something happened.”

“What’s up, Tommo?” Zayn asks.

“It’s, uh- Harry.”

“Styles?” His workmate confirms.

“Who else?”

“Who’s Harry Styles?” Oli asks.

“You told us you weren’t banging anyone, Lou-eeeh!” Calvin jokes.

God, everyone is so wasted.

“I’m not, he’s a student of mine. He got himself in trouble tonight and now Liam, my neighbor who happens to be a police officer, is bringing him to my place because Harry can’t really go back home at this time.”

“The fuck, Louis?” Zayn asks. “D’you have any idea of how many rules you’re breaking now?”

“And what am I supposed to do, Zayn? Leave him on the street? It’s still fucking freezing outside and it’s past midnight.”

“He’s right, babe.” Perrie says.

“I’ll call y’all a cab,” Niall intervenes and grabs his phone, walking away from the speakers.

 

Everything happens way too fast after that.

They pay their tab under Niall’s protests (“I invited you guys here, you don’t have to pay for anything”) and get into a taxi. Zayn and Perrie both stand on the sidewalk looking worried, and wish him good luck. His friends don’t seem to understand shit.

As soon as they get home, Louis and Calvin go to the kitchen to drink some water and make coffee, the only thing available to make them completely sober up right now, and it’s not even five minutes later that the doorbell rings. As Louis is still making the coffee and Oli is probably throwing up in the bathroom, Calvin is the one to open the door.

“Tommo, get over here.” He calls Louis.

 

There, on the threshold, is Liam, holding Harry by one arm. The first thing Louis notices is his student’s angry face, the second is all the bruises and blood on it. This is about to be a long, long night.  

 


	4. ONE DAY AT A TIME

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of my favorite chapters, with one of my favorite scenes.  
> Hope you enjoy it. :)

 

**_"Every day is too long for you; you were sworn to your fate."_ **

 

 

If getting to his apartment happened in a flash, after Harry arrives Louis seems to move in slow motion. He sees him, assesses his body, asks Calvin to take Harry inside and then he takes a deep breath.

“I can’t believe this is the first time we’re properly meeting,” Louis says to the officer in front of him.

Before tonight, he’s only talked to Liam in the elevator or when he was leaving and the officer arriving, or vice versa. Liam chuckles and lets his head fall forwards, sighing tiredly right after.

“Liam Payne,” he stretches out his hand.

“Louis Tomlinson,” the teacher takes it. “Uh- thanks for not arresting him.”

“Not that he didn’t deserve it.” Liam says. “But the kid’s got a record, if I took him in it wouldn’t end up well for him.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah. Styles has a temper, and walks with the wrong crowd. Some of the older guys got into a fight at a club and he was there, so of course he wound up in the middle of it. Not only is he underage but he was also selling drugs. Any other cop would’ve put him behind bars.”

“Why-” Louis squints his eyes. “Why didn’t you?”

“Cause I’m a sentimental prick and he reminds me of my childhood best friend.” Liam smiles. “I was born in a different district, but it was still shitty and we still got up to doing wrong things. I got out, became a cop. Andy wasn’t so lucky.” He looks down again.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Just- just take care of him, yeah? He’s badly hurt but won’t admit it; gave me attitude all the way here.”

“The only person he might hate more than he hates you is me, so.” Louis jokes.

“I don’t think he hates you, Louis,” Liam looks into his eyes. “I think he’s more ashamed than anything right now.”

“Harry?” Louis snorts. “Doubt it.”

“In my experience, the first person one calls is the one they trust the most. Harry could’ve given me his parents’ number, but he gave me your name.” He raises an eyebrow.

“How did you even find my number?”

“I’m property manager, I have everyone’s number in this building.”

“Lucky strike then.” Louis smiles.

“Or fate,” Liam suggests. Then yawns. “Okay, it’s time for me to turn in; had one hell of a night. _Clearly_.”

“Yeah, g’night, Liam. Thanks again for bringing him here. I’ll- I’ll take care of him.”

“I’m sure you will. Good night, Louis. See you around.” His neighbor smiles and takes a few steps back, fishing his keys out of his pocket. Louis says one last _thank you_ before closing his door and walking towards his living room.

 

Harry’s sat on the couch completely still. Calvin is by his side with an empty glass of water in hands and is quiet too, just watching the boy.

“Hey, Harry. You all right?” Louis asks.

“Peachy,” he replies.

“Okay, I’m hungover and my head is pounding so if you’re going to be sarcastic, you can just shut your trap and let me help you.”

“Don’t need your help.”

“Good thing it wasn’t a question. You’ve already ruined my night, so.” He shrugs. “Cal, can you get me the first aid kit from the bathroom, please?”

“Sure, Lou.” His friend gets up and leaves Louis alone in the living room.

He sits by Harry’s side and brushes his curls out of his face; Harry winces right away and Louis can see his entire body is shuddering… But of course it is. Harry’s only wearing jeans, boots and a short-sleeved Ramones shirt that is so beaten up that has holes in it.

His eyes are focused on Louis’ coffee table, because apparently he can’t stand to look at the teacher and when Louis touches him again Harry schools himself to not move much. Louis manages to get Harry’s hair out of his face, and then student slowly lifts his hand, showing a hair-band on his wrist, which Louis promptly takes and ties around the boy’s curls.

It helps.

Harry takes a deep breath and then straightens his body up, careful not to move too much.

“You can rest your back on the couch.” Louis offers.

“I’ll stain it.”

Louis is about to say _it’s okay_ when Calvin comes into the living room, followed by a much better looking Oli. Throwing up does wonders for a drunk person.

“Louis, you got no pain killers in the medicine cabinet, so we thought we’d run to the pharmacy real quick? Is there anything that’s open 24/7?” Calvin asks.

“You don’t have to.” Harry responds way too quickly. Louis doesn’t think he’s ever seen this boy really _scared_ , yet somehow now he looks as though he is.

“We need some too, dude.” Oli says. “Hi, I’m Oli.”

“Harry.” He replies.

“And I’m Calvin, but I’ve already told you that.” He smiles and Harry tries to, but it seems like it hurts, which makes Louis get out of his trance really fast.

“There’s a drugstore a block from here, just leave the building and turn right, walk straight ahead, you’ll see it right away.” He turns to his friends. “There’s money in my wallet.”

“We got it.” Oli assures him and both him and Calvin quickly exit the apartment.

Louis takes the first aid kit and opens it between him and Harry. He instructs the student to turn a bit so they can face each other, and then, silently, Louis starts working. The thing about having _doctors_ for parents is that Louis knows how to work during a crisis and usually has everything in his place.

The fact that he’s run out of pain killers is weird, but not impossible, because ever since he started working here he’s taken at least three a week, trying to relieve headaches caused by teenagers.

“Actually, we should move to the bathroom.” Louis says, making an executive decision. He closes the box again and gets up. “Are you okay to walk?” He asks Harry.

The boy nods and gets up; he walks behind Louis a bit slower than normal, but nothing too worrying in the grand scheme of things. Whatever fight Harry’s gotten into left him in this horrible state, and even though Louis really wants to ask him _what happened_ , he refrains from it for the time being.

“We need to wash it all first, okay?” He asks. “And it’s gonna hurt like a bitch, but if you could take the bruises you can take the healing process.”

Again, Harry just nods. Louis opens the tap and gets the soap to start washing Harry’s hands and arms wounds, bending his body forwards to half of his arms are inside the sink. Harry winces and closes his eyes shut, but he lets Louis clean him up anyways. Slowly and carefully, Louis dries Harry’s arms and hands and then asks him to sit on the toilet.

Silently, much like everything he’s been doing, Harry does what Louis says, and then closes his eyes when the teacher brings a wet cloth to his face.

“I’m sorry, I know it hurts, but I have to.” Louis says as softly as he can. He’s had too many years of practice back at home _and_ at university. Harry isn’t the first troublemaker Louis has encountered in life.

“It’s okay.” Harry assures him, but the tremor in his voice betrays his words.

Once everything is water-cleaned, Louis gets the antiseptic spray for really cleansing the wounds; on Harry’s face, the teacher opts for the ointment, carefully sliding the cotton-tipped swab on the top of the cuts. There are many of them, but none are too deep that worry Louis too much. Thank God.

After that, he applies a little bit of antibiotic ointment, again, only on Harry’s face, to prevent infection. His hands and arms are mostly bruised, no cuts, so Louis is pretty sure they’re going to get better on their own.

He places small, sterile adhesive bandages on Harry’s face cuts, and on the deepest one – which, like he said, isn’t _too_ deep – he places narrow adhesive strips, holding the edges of the cut together, to allow it to heal properly. Even if he’s infuriating, Louis _has_ noticed that Harry has a flawless face; he needs to be careful.

“Have you twisted anything?”

“My left wrist, I guess. But it’s fine, it doesn’t hurt much.”

“Sure,” Louis responds, but quickly grabs his left wrist and wraps it with a three inch sterile roller bandage. He rips the last tip of it so he can tie it on a knot like his mom taught him when he was _seven_ , and then assesses Harry’s entire body.

He looks a lot cleaner and fresher, tired, too.

“Did anyone punch you in the stomach?” Louis asks.

“No.”

“Lemme see.”

“I said _no_ ,” Harry replies.

“All right, Harry.” The teacher sighs and massages his temples. He throws the disposables in the trash and then washes his hands again, putting the first aid kit away right after. “Wait here.”

He goes into his room and grabs his biggest sweatpants, socks, and a soft lavender sweater. When he gets back to the bathroom, Harry’s still sitting on the toilet, unmoving. Needless to say, Louis feels _weird_ . This Harry and the Harry who threatened him a few months ago seem to be _completely_ different, and quickly, Louis wonders how one can be so much at the same time.

“You’re in too much pain to shower right now, but you should change your clothes and then lie down, you can shower in the morning if you’d like.” He says and stretches his hands, offering Harry his clothes.

“Thank you.”

Louis doesn’t know how much _effort_ it might’ve taken Harry to say this, but he figures it was a lot, so he smiles and exits the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

 

His friends arrive right as Louis sets foot in the living room again.

“How is he?” Oli asks.

“Changing clothes,” Louis sighs.

“ _Who_ is he?” He asks again.

“My student. He- he’s a bit fucked up, and I’ve been trying to help him.” He tells them. “Well, forcing my help on him, or whatever. Liam, my neighbor, also happens to be a police officer; Harry got into some trouble tonight, and they called me.”

“Shit, dude.” His friend says.

“I think it’s really noble what you’re doing. Stupid, too, because he can be dangerous. But noble.” Calvin says. “Here,” he gives Louis the drugstore bag.

“He’s harmless, trust me. He’s just a bit lost.” Louis says. “Thank you for this.”

“Don’t mention it.” Calvin responds as Harry gets back in the room. “Hey, dude, you all right?” Louis turns around and is only a _bit_ taken aback by the sight of Harry in his clothes. It’s literally nothing; it’s just- different.

“I am.”

“We brought pizza, if you want.” Oli offers, and only now Louis realizes the box in his friend’s hand.

“I-”

“You should eat something before taking medicine.” Louis says. “I, however, am too sick to even smell this shit. I’m gonna shower.” He states. “You play nice.” Then orders.

“We are always nice?” Calvin kind of asks.

“I was talking to Harry.” Louis corrects him.

It’s the first genuine laugh the student gives him.

 

-

 

Louis spends at least fifteen minutes in the shower; he doesn’t wash his hair, but he welcomes the hot water on his entire body for as long as it lasts, and when he closes the shower tap and opens the glass shower door, he is welcomed by a warm, pleasant fog, one of his favorite things in the world.

There’s softness in the fog; and sometimes Louis thinks that he misses softness in his life.

He brushes his teeth and puts on his clothes, minding that even though the heating is on, he still needs to wear pants and a shirt, because there’s a stranger outside. A stranger he sees every day, who he _gets to know_ more and more every day, but still… A stranger.

Louis checks his phone and there are multiple texts from both Perrie and Zayn asking how things are, and even one from Niall making sure that everything’s okay. Louis sends them all the same thing: **_I’ve got it all under control, will give details later_ ** , and without giving it much thought, he calls his mother.

 

 _“Hey, Lou, what a nice surprise, how are you?”_ His mother asks. It’s earlier in California, but not too early, so Louis is surprised his mom is that chipper.

“I’m all right. Are you out?”

_“Yes, I’m on a dinner date with your dad. Lottie is watching the kids. He’s saying hi, by the way.”_

“Say hi back,” Louis answers. “Hey, Mom, sorry to bother, but can I ask you something?”

“Sure, babe.”

So Louis tells her about what happened; he thinks he talks for five minutes straight, but first he needs to tell her who Harry is, then why they’re closer than Louis is with other students, then what happened tonight; only after he’s given her the full run down of the situation does Louis tell her about Harry’s cuts and bruises, and how he wants to know if he’s missed something.

_“No, baby, seems to me you did everything right. Just give him something for pain, cause I’m sure his muscles are killing him, and his head.”_

“Yeah, he’s eating something and then I will. Advil all right?”

_“Should be. If not, you tell me and I’ll email you a prescription for something stronger.”_

“Okay, that’s good. Thanks, Mom.”

 _“No problem, boo.”_ She hesitates for a second, and then she speaks. _“Just tell me one thing: are you being careful?”_

“With… What?”

_“With your hot eighteen year old student, Louis. Tale as old as time, honestly.”_

“I- no, Mom, it’s _not_ like that. You don’t even know if he’s hot.”

_“Well, is he?”_

“He’s- yes, Harry is good looking. He’s also eighteen _and_ my student. Have some faith in me, I’m just trying to help.” He says annoyed.

_“It’s not about not having faith in you, son; I’m just giving you a mother’s perspective of things. Be careful.”_

“Sure, Johanna.” Louis rolls his eyes. “I’ll go check in on him with the guys now. Thank you, Mom. Have a lovely evening.”

_“Thanks, boo, and I will. Send my best to the guys… And Harry,” she laughs. “Bye, love.”_

“Bye, Mom.”

Upon getting to the kitchen, Louis feels betrayed. Harry’s actually _laughing_ with his friends; both Oli and Cal are bending forwards holding their pizza slices and so is Harry. Louis has no idea of what they’re talking about, but- they’re _talking_.

“Lou, you sure you don’t want some pizza?” Oli asks.

“Yeah, even brushed my teeth.” He says. “Look, you two can take the guest room and I’ll set up the couch for Harry.”

“Let him have the bed, we’ll make do on your humongous couch.” Cal says.

“No, no way,” Harry says. “That couch is more comfortable than my bed, so I’ll be fine. I’ve already disturbed your night enough.”

“You’re alright, Dude.” Oli assures him.

“Need help, Lou?” Calvin asks.

“No. It’s fine.” Louis replies and walks back to his room, looking for things that will make the couch even more comfortable.

He gets two comforters and two pillows, and a thick blanket; of course he needs to make two trips, because he can’t carry everything by himself, but also doesn’t want to ask for help, since they’re all still eating.

Louis sets up the couch in a way that it looks more comfortable than _his own_ bed, and is satisfied with it when he hears a _holy shit_ escape Harry’s mouth when he looks at what he’s done.

“Did you take the Advil?” Louis asks.

“Yeah. Cal gave it to me.”

“Cal?” He snorts.

“He told me to call him that.” He defends himself.

“Stop being an ass, Tommo.” One of his best friends says from the kitchen; Louis can see he’s throwing things in the trash while the other washes the dishes.

“Yeah, right.” Louis rolls his eyes, and then looks at Harry. “You can turn on the TV if you want, there’s Netflix on, just use the guest account so you don’t fuck up my marathons.” He offers.

“Okay.”

“Okay. Good night, Harry.” Louis says. “Night, y’all.” He says a bit louder towards the kitchen.

Both of his friends mumble _good night_ back and Louis is satisfied enough to go to his room. Fifteen minutes later, there’s no more noise in the house. Oli and Calvin are probably going to sleep and so is Harry.

Louis rolls to the right side of the bed and checks the time; it’s nearing two in the morning and he should be absolutely _exhausted_ after the day he’s had, but somehow he can’t shut his brain off.

He retraces his Friday and concludes it was one of those days that seem unbelievable to have happened when you lay your head on the pillow. He’s just… done _so much_. He woke up very early, took the bus, taught classes, picked his car up, picked his friends up from the airport, went to a bar, got drunk, helped Harry. He should be dead to the world right now.

Still, Louis is wide awake, staring at the ceiling. He gives himself twenty more minutes before he decides to get up again and go to the balcony. When Louis decided to rent this place, its balcony played a huge part in it. Louis has always been fond of balconies, having some great memories from his childhood on them.

He was on a balcony when he watched his first sunrise and he was on a balcony when he had his first make out session; he also was on a balcony when he smoked his first joint, and second, and third, and many others. He smiles to himself as he tiptoes into the living room and slowly slides the glass door open, doing his best not to wake Harry up.

It’s a moonless night, tonight. The sky is dark and low, and the air is so chilled that it kind of hurts to breathe; Louis underestimated the cold. _At least there’s no more frost on the pavement_ , he consoles himself.

Louis sits down on one of the chairs and it’s really cold on his butt, but he moves around a bit and manages to be comfortable; he then lights up a cigarette and can feel himself relaxing on the second drag. In. And out. _Peace_.

 

“I didn’t know you smoked,” Harry’s voice scares him. He’s standing by the door, his arms firmly crossed on his front.

“Occasionally.” Louis responds, staring ahead one more time. There’s nothing to watch on the street, still, Louis’ eyes are focused there. He’s very aware that Harry sits by his side, though. “Isn’t the bed comfortable enough? Or are you in pain?” He asks then.

“Neither. Bed’s perfect, I’m not in pain anymore. Just can’t shut my head up.” _Relatable._ “Can I have a drag?” Without really thinking, Louis passes him the cigarette. “Wow, aren’t you supposed to give me a speech on how I’m underage and have caused enough trouble in one night?” Harry asks bewildered, and Louis catches a hint of a smirk on his face when he looks at him.

“Was that you testing me?”

“Maybe.”

“If so, then give it back,” he makes it to take the cigarette back, but Harry’s already putting it between his lips. “You’re eighteen,” Louis then says, “you’re legal in a lot of places.” He shrugs. “Plus, you aren’t my student right now, so I don’t get to boss you around.”

Harry inhales and exhales the smoke slowly.

“What am I, then?” He asks.

His voice is low, but then again it always is; Harry’s voice has one of those irritating tones – but not because it’s bad, but because it’s _so_ good that it works in any situation. Louis always has to be careful of how he sounds, being told more than once that his high pitched tone gets under people’s skins sometimes. But Harry’s voice is… Calming. Hoarse. Weirdly, it fits him.

When he asks “ _what am I?”_ it can mean a lot of things; to some degree, he may even be wondering in the grand scheme of things. But right now, specifically, all Louis hears is “ _what am I to you?”_ and he really doesn’t know the answer to this question.

Generically speaking, Harry is someone Louis is beginning to care about; someone he wants to protect, to make _better_ . He’s a student, and a human being, and someone who was born in a horrible neighborhood and was subjected to a terrible environment his entire life. He’s someone that nobody else cared about at school, even though he is brilliant. He _is_. Louis truly believes so.

They wordlessly share three cigarettes. Instead of taking one each, they just keep passing this small roll of tobacco between themselves, and when they’re through with the third one, Harry yawns, causing Louis to do the same.

“We should be able to sleep now.” Louis chuckles.

“Y-yeah, we should.” Harry agrees.

Louis gets up and takes the ashtray with him, while Harry places the chairs where they were previously at – in the corner. They get inside the house and Harry closes the sliding glass door behind them.

“Night, Harry. Don’t worry about waking up early, okay? It’s past three now.”

“Okay.” He nods. When Louis turns back, Harry calls his name. Not _Mr. Tomlinson_ , but… “Louis.” Harry calls and Louis turns around. “Thank you. For- you know. Everything.”

Way too long passes, and then Louis replies.

“You’re welcome, Harry.”

 

-

 

It takes a while for Louis to understand why there’s noise in his apartment at… Ten in the freaking morning – he checks his phone – on a Sunday. There’s a message from Liam saying that he’s already up, so whenever Harry’s ready they can get going, and Louis’ brain catches up fairly quickly after that.

He remembers that his student is here and so are his friends from college. The idea is so ridiculous it’s a bit funny, and Louis stalls in bed for as long as his back allows him, preparing for what he’s going to find when he leaves this room. If it were entirely up to him, he wouldn’t, but, unfortunately, his body isn’t used to staying in bed longer than necessary anymore.

Louis used to _hate_ it. By his last year of college he was already cursing the universe for not letting him sleep until midday anymore, but now he kind of digs it – even if he barely admits it to himself. There’s just something about living through all the times of a day that makes him feel like he’s actually _living_ , even if he isn’t being productive.

Because of that, and because his back is really starting to hurt, Louis gets up and makes his way into his ensuite to assess the situation of his face. He washes it and then brushes his teeth; he doesn’t do anything with his hair because it’s useless, and he really doesn’t plan on leaving the house today.

When he makes his way to the living room, he finds Harry already awake, flicking channels on the TV, but never really stopping on any of them – also, it’s on mute, so Louis really doesn’t know where the noise came from.

“Hey, good morning,” Louis says as lowly as he can so as not to disturb the boy too much.

Harry’s still a bit startled, and turns around quickly.

“Louis. Mr. Tomlinson. Hi. Good morning.”

Louis wants to tell him he doesn’t have to say _Mr. Tomlinson_ outside school, but something stops him. Maybe because he doesn’t want to give Harry the idea that they will be seeing each other outside school.

“Did I scare you? Sorry.” He shifts uncomfortably on his feet. What the fuck?

“No, course not. It’s your house,” Harry chuckles. Louis doesn’t think he’s ever seen this boy look so serene.

“Did you sleep well?” He walks closer and sits on the armchair, not wanting to look random in his own living room. “How’re you feeling?”

“Sore,” Harry tells him. “But yes, I think- I think this was the first night in many, many weeks that I’ve slept without being woken up by- uh, gunshots.” Louis doesn’t know what to say to that; he was aware that Harry’s neighborhood was bad. He just didn’t know it was _this_ bad. Seeing the confusion in his expression, Harry keeps talking. “The gangs are at war,” he offers as an explanation. “It’s why I got into a fight yesterday, actually.”

“Harry…”

“Some guy from the other gang was trying to sell at the club I usually go to on Friday nights, and Mark would have my head if he knew _I knew_ and let it happen.”

“Are you back to dealing then?”

“I never really stopped, not on weekends.” He shrugs. “I need to eat during the week somehow,” Harry grimaces. “And also- uh. I’m kinda putting some money together to pay you back for your car, what you spent to fix it. That was a shit move, even for me.”

“You don’t have to.” Louis catches himself saying way too quickly. “Seriously, Harry, I… I’d rather you stop dealing at all than pay me anything.”

“We both know that isn’t going to happen.” Harry snorts.

“And why not?” Louis asks, but the boy doesn’t answer. Instead, Harry focuses on the TV and goes back to flicking channels; it’s driving Louis insane, especially because there’s no noise and… “I heard some noise from my room; I thought the guys had woken up.” He comments, hoping that Harry will respond and not hold the previous topic over Louis’ head.

He does.

“Nah, it was me rummaging through your kitchen trying to find things for breakfast.”

“Oh. Are you hungry? I can make something.”

“No, I- I mean, yes, but I thought I could make you all something? As a thank you.”

“You don’t-”

“Have to, yeah.” Harry completes. “I want to?”

“Aren’t you hurting though?”

“I won’t be if you give me more Advil.” He replies cheekily.

And now you see… Louis kind of even _likes_ Harry Styles right now. Crazy.

 

He gets the boy more medicine and then follows him to the kitchen, grabbing everything they need for a proper breakfast and putting on the kitchen counter, making it easier for Harry to access. Harry jokes about every kitchen utensil being _hidden_ in Louis’ place, and the teacher laughs along, not telling him that it’s actually because he hardly ever uses any of that.

Louis isn’t a total disaster in the kitchen as some may think; he’s lived alone long enough to at least make a few dishes in order not to starve himself or fuck up his cholesterol levels with take out, he’s just really _not_ very fond of cooking. He doesn’t have the patience or the discipline to do so, not when he could put something in the microwave oven, have it ready in one quarter of the time and even play a video game whilst it’s getting ready.

Harry is different, though. The eighteen year old – who is a rebel in many ways – _has_ the kind of discipline to cook. He’s organized in the kitchen in a way Louis never was in… Anything. Quickly and efficiently, he puts together a very beautiful breakfast and shit, it smells so good that Louis’ stomach grumbles.

He’s setting the table when Oli emerges from the guest room, yawning and looking rather sleepy for the hour.

“Shit, this smells good,” Louis’ friend voices his own thoughts.

“Hope it tastes good too,” Harry says sheepishly.

“Holy shit, you made this? Wait, course you did, Louis is incapable of making something like this.”

“Oi!” He complains and Harry laughs.

“Thought Mr. Tomlinson was good at everything.” Harry voices. He _could_ tease Louis, but he actually sounds _genuine_.

“Nah, Dude, don’t let him misguide you. Apart from teaching, being a friend and playing soccer, Louis sucks at most things.”

“I resent that, I don’t suck _most_ things.” He says before he can even stop himself. He’s way too comfortable with Oli and, granted, with Harry too that he forgets that some things are better left unsaid.

Harry laughs loudly, though. Very, very loudly, in a weird way. It’s almost a shriek, and he puts his hands on his mouth instantly, as if he himself is surprised that he can emit such sound.

“Sorry, that was-” Louis starts.

“Gold. That was _gold_.” Harry interrupts him.

“I forgot to say he’s funny too. Sometimes.” Oli offers and sits at the table. “You feeling better, Harry?” He asks as he puts some food on his plate. Louis’s is already full with scrambled eggs, bacon and toast, and he starts digging in immediately.

_My God, can this boy cook!_

Louis closes his eyes for one second, and when he opens them, Harry’s smirking at him.

“It tastes really good.” Louis compliments him, then.

“Shit, it really does.” Oli agrees, mouth full.

“Thanks.” Harry voices weakly, a hint of a blush on his cheeks. And then he looks back at Oli. “I’m better, took another pill this morning.  I’ll just eat something and then be out of your hair.”

“Liam said-” Louis starts.

“You should stay for a bit,Harry. Calvin said something ‘bout a FIFA tournament today, after he wakes up and is properly fed I’m sure he’ll want you to stay. He and Lou always team up anyways, I’ll need someone.”

“Uh- I’m- I mean, I don’t.” Harry looks down.

“You can stay if you want.” Louis says, again, before he can control himself. What the fuck?

Harry looks up at him and his eyes ask _really?_ Louis nods. _Really_.

“What about Officer Payne, though?” Harry asks.

“I’ll call him. I’m sure he won’t mind going a bit later.”

“I… I think he will.” Harry says. “It’s… Pretty bad there.” He completes.

“Where d’you live?” Oli asks.

“Fuller Park.” Harry tells him. “It’s about halfway between Downtown and Chicago Heights, along I-94. If you ever find yourself lost, don’t get off on E. 130th Street. That’s Fuller Park. That’s bad.” There’s something somber in his tone; something that’s always there, but it’s never been quite this strong.

“How bad?” The teacher doesn’t resist the temptation and asks.

“Well, it’s listed as the worst neighborhood of Chicago. Crime rate is absolutely insane there and nearly one in five residents doesn’t have a proper job, which is why we- uh… They join the gangs.” He explains, this time not looking them in the eyes. “I told Mr. Tomlinson yesterday that the gangs are fighting, so it’s been worse these past couple of weeks. We need to be home by four, cause that’s when they start going to the streets.”

“But you- you’ve been _leaving_ school at four, how do you-”

Harry grimaces.

“Jeff’s been picking me up.” He tells Louis. “We wait for the first round of shots to be over and then I go in and he- you know.”

“That’s it, come Monday you’re leaving earlier. Holy shit, Harry.” Louis’ heart is _sinking_.

He feels for Harry, for Harry’s family, for every good person who lives there. It’s _shocking_ that this still happens in the world, and in the United States of America no less… A “first world” country. _First world_ , Louis kind of snorts mentally. They’re so, so far away from being what people believe a first world country should be that first world lives in another galaxy.

Freedom comes at a price. And that price is, more often than not, safety. And if Freedom versus Safety isn’t one of the worst dilemmas in the world, then Louis doesn’t know what is.

“It’s been okay.”

“It’s not, Harry.” Oli interferes. “It’s really not okay.”

They change topics after that, after all, this conversation is way too heavy to be had at any hour of the day, but especially at brunch. A few minutes later, Calvin finally wakes up, but just because his phone rings incessantly; he already comes into the kitchen complaining about his sister who is in Europe and her lack of knowledge about time zones.

“Dude, it’s almost midday.” Louis jokes.

“ _Dude_ , it’s Saturday.” He throws back at him. “God bless you, Harry Styles.” Calvin voices as he sits at the table. “So, what are the plans for today?”

“Didn’t you want to play FIFA?” Louis asks.

“Yeah, it’s been a while since we last kicked Oli’s ass.”

“Asshole.” Oli rolls his eyes. “I told Harry he could stay and play with us…”

“Definitely! Gives him a chance to actually win something.” Calvin laughs.

“But I’m kinda shit at it too…” Harry says.

“Then you team up with Louis and I’ll save his sorry ass. Now let me eat, please.”

 

While Calvin eats, Oli sets up the game in the living room and Louis tells Harry he should take a shower if he wants to. His student agrees and gets up, following Louis into the house.

Louis shows him where everything is in the main bathroom and then goes inside to grab him a towel, as well as some clothes. Louis shows him the first aid kit on the sink counter, telling him that he should see to his bruises again, but if he can’t do it, he just needs to call and Louis will do it for him. Harry thanks him without really looking him in the eyes, and Louis takes it as his cue to leave.

He doesn’t get why this boy makes him uncomfortable in his own space, at times in his own freaking skin, but at the same time draws him in, makes Louis want to keep him all right, well taken care of. Part of him passes it off as being an older brother and having the instinct to look after his siblings, but then again, Louis’ brain refuses the idea of seeing Harry as a little brother.

 _What am I, then?_ he recalls Harry asking in the middle of the night.

 _What is he?_ Louis asks himself.

“Hey, for what it’s worth…” Louis says before exiting the bathroom. “I’m sorry things are shitty where you live.”

“They always are,” Harry grimaces. “I’m used to it. It’s all I know.”

“Everyone deserves better.” _You_ _deserve better_.

Harry’s eyes lay on Louis’ collarbones, and then he looks back at him.

“It is what it is.”

 

-

 

Later in the afternoon, both Oli and Calvin convince Louis to let Harry stay one more night. _The kid deserves recovering without being afraid of getting shot_ , Calvin says.

“How can you like him so much?” Louis asks Oli when they go out to buy dinner. Calvin and Harry stayed back at the apartment watching FRIENDS.

“He’s good for you.”

“You crazy? He’s gonna give me gray hair. Plus, he can’t stand me.”

“You can’t see it, can you?” Oli looks at him, almost mesmerized. The teacher stays silent. “Louis, that guy worships the ground you walk on.”

And well. That’s new.

  



	5. CARE A LITTLE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You've all been so amazing to me so far. I can't thank you enough <3
> 
> Hope you enjoy this chapter.

 

 

**_"Don’t you ever leave it up to circumstance."_ **

 

 

It shouldn’t come as a surprise to Louis that Harry gives him attitude at school even after everything.

Things went well over the weekend. On Saturday, Harry and Louis defeated Oli and Calvin on FIFA and when they were hungry enough they decided to go out for Thai, the weather finally allowing Louis to not want to die out on the street. Harry even teased him about the cold and told his friends about how Louis was always extra bitter when the snow was too rough at the beginning of the year, which made Oli elbow him more than once with an I told you so look.

On Sunday, Harry woke up feeling a lot better. He cooked them breakfast again, and then Louis called Liam to take him home. He thanked Louis again “for everything”, and even exchanged phone numbers with Louis’ college friends – that didn’t surprise Louis at all, but he snorted and rolled his eyes anyways when he closed the door behind Harry.

“I don’t get what you see in him, honestly.” Louis said to them.

Lou, the reason he gets under your skin is that he’s exactly like you used to be when you first started college.” Calvin accused him.

“Was I a troublemaker who sold drugs?”

“No. You were a troublemaker who bought drugs… From the likes of Harry, no less.” Oli reminded him.

Louis didn’t dignify them with an answer.

 

Today, Harry walks in making noise, and interrupting Louis in the middle of his lecture. He breathes in and out about three times before he calls his name and tells him to stay silent. Harry smirks, but complies… For five minutes. Then he’s at it again, hitting on a girl, no less. And she’s enjoying it. Louis tries to pretend he isn’t paying attention, but he is.

Lucy, her name is, flicks her hair and whispers in his ear when she thinks her teacher isn’t looking, and Harry places a hand on her thigh under the desk. It’s annoying when students don’t pay attention to you, so Louis makes a point to stop talking until he has their eyes on him again. Then he continues.

Again, at the end of the class, Harry disrupts him. He makes two boys laugh loudly and startle everyone around them, and honestly…

“If you don’t want to be here, Mr. Styles, you can always leave.” Louis says, painfully aware that the class ends in fifteen minutes anyways.

“It’s not like I have a choice.” He shrugs.

“Right now you don’t. Just leave.” The teacher orders.

Harry widens his eyes and gets up, only slightly bothered by his classmates eyeing him.

Louis thinks that it bothers Harry that he is the oldest here; sure, the student passes it off as he’s the coolest person around because he’s already eighteen years old, but much like everything else, Louis thinks it’s a façade, that the reason he does it is to feel good about himself – just like people who say you’re ugly in order to try and feel a little bit more beautiful. Louis doesn’t like those people, and he even pities them. But when it comes to Harry, things seem to be a bit more different.

He’s decided he doesn’t hate Harry. Of course there’s an abysm between them, and their relationship is fragile – he’s not about to play soccer with Harry on weekends or attend a summer barbecue with him like he’s promised his senior students. Still, he doesn’t hate him as he hates the people he’s just compared Harry to. And also, in spite of having reasons to, Louis doesn’t pity Harry either.

Because Harry’s resilient. There’s just something about him that screams courage and overcoming; maybe it’s his posture, still straight, after having taken so many hits. Maybe it’s the way he walks, standing tall, even after being told time and time again he isn’t worth much. Maybe it’s the way he speaks, with an agonizingly realistic view of life, of his life. Maybe it’s a combination of it all plus the shots he hears at night and the people he’s afraid to lose. Maybe it’s the people he’s already lost. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s eighteen and doesn’t believe he’ll go anywhere, but, in spite of it all, worries.

So, no. Louis doesn’t hate Harry. He might even like him one day like he liked him this past weekend. Harry just needs to let him in.

 

-

 

He’s collecting his things to go home when there’s a knock on his door.

“Mr. Styles.” Louis addresses him.

“Are we still on for this afternoon?”

“Won’t it be too much trouble for you?” He asks ironically.

“It will.” Harry responds seriously. “But if you were serious about letting me leave earlier, because of, you know, the shootings- I’d quite like to have class today.”

“You’d… Quite like. To have class. Today.”

“That’s what I just said?” The student frowns.

“You do realize you were a jerk earlier, right? So much I had to invite you to leave the room?”

“Yeah, but then again I’m always a jerk.” Harry smiles cheekily. “And I need to study for Malik’s test on Thursday.”

“For what?”

“To… Pass?”

“With another C?” Louis raises his eyebrows.

“Well, I’m trying my best?”

“I know you’re trying your best… To stay average.”

“We’re not having this discussion again, Mr. Tomlinson,” Harry says as he sits down. “You can go have lunch; I ate something when you expelled me from your classroom. I’ll be here when you come back.”

“Zayn told me you got all the questions right, but marked the wrong answers. You gonna tell me it wasn’t on purpose?” He crosses his arms. Harry only snorts and nods. “Why are you doing this, Harry?”

Harry doesn’t respond, but then again Louis wasn’t expecting him to. What he does, instead, is sit down and focus on his book. Louis sighs defeated and tells him he’ll be back in less than an hour.

 

Louis goes out and breathes a bit. He welcomes the wind on his face, but still tightens the coat on his body. There are a few teachers walking together towards the cafeteria and for a second there Louis considers following them, sitting with them and talking to them. But he doesn’t want to.

The truth is that apart from Zayn, who we’ve already established is one of Louis’ new favorite people, he doesn’t really connect with anyone else here. Sure, he quite likes James, but he is his boss, so there’s only so close Louis can get him; all the other teachers still don’t really give him openings, but more and more, Louis has been realizing that even if they did, he wouldn’t want to take them.

It’s just that they don’t connect. And Louis has always promised himself that he’d never force a relationship with anyone. If you and somebody else don’t have the same vibe, then for crying out loud do not try andforce yourself to fit into their lives, he’s always thought. He can keep a professional, polite relationship with all of them without becoming besties.

 

He ends up eating around the corner at the same place he always does. There’s a girl named Danielle that always flirts with him and implies she wants to give him her number. Louis flirts back, and he feels terrible for it, because he’s never ever going to make a move – after all, despite being a very beautiful woman, she is, well, a woman. It’s just that he can’t help it.

You see, Louis isn’t a natural flirt, or at least he doesn’t consider himself one. But he likes flirting anyways; he likes how it feels when someone smiles solely because of him, and he likes smiling back, knowing exactly what they’re thinking. He misses it. Every day that passes, he misses it more.

He flirts with the Danielle girl and sometimes with random people at Niall’s bar. Sometimes, if they have the right body parts – namely, a penis – and are good looking, and polite, he gets off with them in the toilet. If they’re good looking, polite, and nice, he goes back to their place and fucks them.

Everything is harmless, and everything is feeling-less, and Louis pretends it doesn’t bother him in the slightest when Niall asks him when he’ll give his heart to someone. When someone’s willing to take care of it, he responds when he’s drunk enough that he forgets he doesn’t talk about feelings.

 

Louis gets back to the school and finds Harry doing his third exercise; it doesn’t look like he has a problem at all. It looks like he’s having fun. Who would’ve guessed?

 

-

 

After so many months of Chicago drizzle, the weather gods decide to send the sun – a real sun, not the Voltaire sun that Victor Hugo always insulted (“it gives light, but doesn’t offer any heat whatsoever”). April brings the promise of winter lifting, the end of grey, bitter days. Today Louis takes in, for real, the first kiss of spring warmth.

April also brings Liam, full force. If before he and Louis didn’t talk much, now they’re attached at the hip. Liam fits seamlessly into Louis’ very small group of Chicagoan friends, which are Zayn and Perrie, and Niall.

They go to Niall’s almost every weekend, and Louis finds it interesting to get to know the city through his neighbor’s eyes. He’s always telling stories about the things he’s done and the places he’s visited and anyone can see just how passionate he is about his work.

 

“And how are things in Fuller Park?” Louis asks one of these days, when they’re still sober, because Niall isn’t off.

“Not better.” Liam answers.

“And by that you mean…?”

“They’re getting worse.” He grimaces. “Like, the gangs are at war and we don’t know why, and we can’t really do anything right now because there are informants at stake.”

“What does that mean? Do the police just turn a blind eye?”

“I’d like to say no, but… Basically?” Liam grimaces. “Has your boy told you anything new?”

Louis doesn’t respond to Liam calling Harry his boy, but he notices it.

“Not really. He’s focused on school right now.” He says it and Zayn snorts. “What?”

“You’re wasting your time, it’s all.”

“I’m not.”

“I don’t think he is either,” Liam offers. “That boy’s more than salvageable.”

“That’s not it, he’s just- forget it.” Zayn drinks.

“He got everything wrong on purpose again?” Louis is fuming when he asks, and Zayn just nods. “I’ll have a real talk with him.”

“Don’t know how you do it, man,” Niall puts in and slides another pint on the counter to Louis. “When I was in high school there was this teacher who was always trying to help the troublemakers too. She wound up dead.”

“Thanks, Nialler.” The teacher smirks. “If anything happens to me, Liam here will protect me, won’t ya?”

“I’ll try, Louis. I’ll try.” Liam seems like he wants to say something else, but his phone rings right away and he says he needs to go.

You see, Liam has this older girlfriend that is always bugging him for some thing or another. Her name is Cheryl and she is, objectively, gorgeous. Louis has met her once and it wasn’t the most pleasant encounter in the world; they just… Didn’t hit it off.

Later, when Louis mentioned her, Liam simply sighed and said their situation was complicated. He liked her, maybe even loved her, but they could barely manage two weeks without fighting. She was too needy and he was too unattached and busy, and at the end of the day he preferred to stay alone with pizza in his flat than to go out to hers.

The other night, Louis stayed awake up until three in the morning on Liam’s balcony, listening to him talk about how relationships are too much work, but how much he likes to be in them at the same time; he’s just not sure he’s in the right one this time. Louis thinks he gets it.

Most people go through life testing the waters. And now he’s realized that it can be both a blessing and a curse. Louis believes it’s okay to chase love; he thinks that people are allowed to get into different relationships to see if they’re going to work and that there’s nothing wrong in wanting to go with the flow. But he also thinks it’s useless. Because Louis Tomlinson is a big believer.

He believes that no matter how much you try, how much you test, at the end of the day “the right relationship” or, well, the right person will come without you ever noticing; you don’t find love, love finds you, your love chooses you, his father always says when he’s a bit tipsy telling the story of how he and Jay met.

Louis’ father is also Louis’ hero – he thinks he and his mom are better than The Avengers all together. So, Louis believes him; he believes everything he says about life, and science, and religion… And love.

 

-

 

The rest of the month passes in a weird way. Time just seems like a whole new concept in Louis’ life now that he is an adult, and every day he steps into his classroom and teaches teenagers about the greatest writers of all time, he feels like he is contributing to society in a very important way.

Most of his students like him. He can’t say “all of them”, because that’d be just too cocky, but he has a really great connection with them, even when they interact outside of the classroom. There’s something about being closer to their age than other teachers that make both sides more comfortable and excited, and when it’s lunchtime and Louis decides to eat in the cafeteria, the seniors don’t even bat an eye when they ask him to sit with them.

“Mr. Malik will be jealous.” Louis sneers when he sits by Georgina’s side.

“He’ll live.” Her boyfriend jokes. “Are you going to be speaking at the orientation week, Mr. Tomlinson?” He asks. Louis just eyes him. “Louis.”

“Nah, I won’t. They’re bringing professors from universities actually… You all participating?” He asks and everyone nods around the table. “That’ll be good.”

“Did it help you decide what you wanted? When you were in high school?” David, a skinny, ginger boy asks him.

“Not really. But then again I wasn’t the best of students in high school.” He confesses. “I’m trying to be a good example now.”

“Hard to imagine you being a troublemaker.” Georgina comments. “Were you anything like Harry Styles?”

“I-” Louis frown. “I wasn’t a troublemaker. Harry isn’t either.”

“He should be in our year. In a way, I’m glad he failed. He ruined most of our classes.” David comments.

“You’re a saint for dealing with him.” Georgina’s boyfriend says, and once again Louis sees all heads moving in confirmation around the table.

He doesn’t let the topic go further, mostly because he doesn’t think he should let other people talk about Harry like this. Actually, he doesn’t like when people talk about Harry at all, not when they use these disapproving looks and tones as if they were so much better than him.

Louis loves these students, he does. They talk, and joke, and laugh, and when Zayn shows up they even invite him to sit at their table (the other teachers look at them very confused, but the two young teachers just shrug it off and keep doing what they do). But he isn’t very fond of how they treat Harry.

And, okay, maybe he used to be a troublemaker. Louis is pretty sure that at some point he’s thought of Harry as an insufferable brat. But things have changed. Things are changing. And Harry isn’t the same, not at all. Not fundamentally, he isn’t.

Because, you see, fundamentally, every teenager at this school is a rebel because it’s an intrinsic feature of their personalities; they all fight with their parents and sneak out at some point in their lives. They let their grades get low and they drink alcohol because it’s super exciting to drink when you know you can’t.

But fundamentally, every teenager at this school also has a comfortable house and enough money to get through the week. This is a public school, so Louis knows there aren’t any millionaires around, but he also knows that all of them live an okay life. And that’s why, fundamentally, none of them have any grounds to talk about Harry.

Harry doesn’t live in a comfortable home and doesn’t have money to get through a few days, let alone a week. Harry does have parents to give a crap, but that’s literally all they can give him. Harry lives in a place where he literally dodges bullets, where his friends are involved with drugs, where he himself needs to deal to escape a worse fate.

Harry is fundamentally someone who was born with all of the odds against him, and he is someone who never had a person tell him he could amount to anything, so it pisses Louis off when students - and everyone else, really - says that he’s nothing but a troublemaker when they have never ever tried to ask him why he is the way he is.

 

Louis doesn’t think he is the best person in the world because he looked twice at the boy who could have easily repelled him too, but he does feel a bit better about himself when after lunch he goes back to his classroom and Harry’s already there, waiting for him to start his studies.

“D’you intend to actually improve your grades now or…?” Louis asks him, throwing him an apple.

Harry really loves apples.

“Fuck you.”

“Language.”

“Cause you’ve got such a clean mouth.”

“Why are you being a bitch then?” Louis asks, sitting on his own table, legs dangling because they don’t touch the ground.

“My mom’s sick.” Harry sighs.

“How sick?” Louis’ voice changes instantly.

“’S just a cold apparently. But she can’t work, because she works at a house with kids, and they told her not to come in till she’s better… Meaning she won’t receive money for these days, and we don’t have money to buy medicine as it is. You happy now, or do you need more details?” He finally looks up at Louis.

“What are her symptoms?” The teacher ignores his snappiness, fishing his phone out of his pocket to call his mother.

“Cough, fever, runny nose. It’s just a cold.” He repeats. “What are you doing?”

“Hi, mom.” Louis talks on the phone. “Sorry, you busy?”

“A bit. ’S it important?”

“Uh, yeah, just- what would you recommend for a cold?”

Harry’s staring at him wide-eyed now. And he moves his mouth no money. Louis raises a hand, asking for a second.

“Are you sick, darling?”

“No, my student’s mom. ’S just a cold, but she needs to get back on her feet fast.” He explains.

“Well, go to the pharmacy and look for products with phenylephrine or pseudoephedrine, you may have to ask for these, they’re still considered over-the-counter, but are often stored behind the counter; if you see the letter D at the end of a medicine’s name, it means it includes a decongestant, and that’s always a relief.”

“Kay.” He tries to make a mental note of everything. “That it?”

“I’d also get a nasal spray, but only if it’s real bad. Something with oxymetazoline maybe; but it has to be used carefully. If it’s used more than two or three days in a row, the congestion could get worse.” Jay instructs. “And if she’s coughing a lot, try a cough suppressant, like dextromethorphan, the same one you take when you get sick.”

“Alright, thank you. I’ll call you later, yeah? Have a good day at work. Say hi to Dad.” Louis says.

“You too, baby. Hope Harry’s mom feels better.”

“But I didn’t-”

“Bye, Lou.”

“My mother just hung up on me.” Louis chuckles as he tells Harry. “Okay, I know what we need to get her.”

“Louis, I don’t have money. Dad doesn’t either, and when he does get money, it’ll go for food.” He explains.

“Good thing I do.”

“You’re not buying my mom any meds.” Harry says sternly.

“If it means you won’t have to spend the week selling pot then yes, I will. Now, get to work. We’ll go to the drugstore later. And please, work on something that you do not know.” Louis gets up from his desk, looking over at Harry’s paper.

“I do not know math.”

“You know math too well, let’s not go over this again. I’d advise you check your geography notes, I heard something about a surprise mock test in the next few weeks.” Louis says.

“Shit, I hate geography.” Harry groans, but does as he’s told and puts his math exercises away, retrieving his geography notebook from his worn out backpack. Louis wonders how many years it’s been since he got a new one.

It’s a stupid thing to be sad over, but he is.

“I used to hate it too.” Louis agrees with him. “Actually, my geography teacher once told me I’d never amount to anything.”

“Every teacher I’ve ever had said the same, apart from you.” Harry says.

“Has Zayn ever?”

“No, you’re right. Apart from you and Mr. Malik.” He looks at Louis. “T-thanks for that, by the way.”

“Not saying shit to you?”

“You say plenty of shit to me, just not- that. You never said that.”

“Cause I never thought that.”

“Now you might be the only one in the world.” He snorts. “I’m pretty sure even my parents have thought that.”

“Give them more credit.” Louis smiles sadly.

Harry’s eyes linger on Louis’ collarbones for a few seconds, and then he speaks again:

“It is what it is.”

The teacher is taken by surprise, and wonders if the tattoo is noticeable through his shirt, but he remembers that no, it isn’t, he is always careful with what he wears, but he remembers Harry slept at his flat once, he’s seen Louis in his home clothes. He knows the tattoo is there, and he hasn’t forgotten.

Well.

“Yeah.” Louis exhales. And they leave it at that.

 

Louis doesn’t have much to do this afternoon, so he basically plays on his phone while Harry studies, and eventually replies to an email from Simon he was dreading since the beginning of the week, confirming his presence at orientation week, and promising to play nice with whichever professor comes to speak.

He knows orientation is much more interesting for the senior students than anyone else, but this year every student who’s in high school is participating, and the event is going to happen at the gymnasium instead of the auditorium to accommodate everyone.

James, the principal, tells Louis in their work group chat that each teacher gets front row seats to the lectures if they want, and Zayn jokes with him in private about how much it sucks, because he was planning on sleeping through orientation.

LOL. Same. Louis texts him.

How d’you feel about a blind date?Zayn texts next.

That was a change of topic.

‘M serious.

How blind?

He can almost picture Zayn rolling his eyes.

Name’s Nick, works with Perrie. Saw your picture and got the hots for you.

He decent looking?

Yeah.

Then sure, y not?

God and everyone else knows Louis needs a good shag.

Our place, Saturday night.

Deal.

 

-

 

“This is too expensive, I can’t let you spend all this money.” Harry argues with him at the register.

“Good thing I don’t need you to let me do anything.”

“You don’t get to boss me around outside school.” The boy complains.

“You don’t get to boss me around anywhere.” Louis smiles cheekily.

It isn’t a lot of money, nothing out of the ordinary at least. And Louis convinces himself he’d do it for anyone who was in need. He does make his life mission to always be a bit kinder than necessary, and if Harry isn’t the biggest proof of that, he doesn’t know what is.

“Louis, I’m serious.”

“So am I, Harry.” He responds and gives the lady his debit card. In less than one minute, he makes the purchase, thanks the lady who helped them, and drags Harry out of the pharmacy.

 

“Louis…” Harry starts again once they make it back to the school parking lot.

It’s almost six p.m., because studying geography took Harry longer than either of them expected, but Louis didn’t mind to wait. As it turned out, watching Netflix on his phone wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

“Now, pay attention, okay?” He gives Harry the plastic bag, paying no mind to what the boy was going to say. “Nasal spray only before bed and not for more than three days in a row. The syrup is to be taken every eight hours, and so are the pills. Mom always used to give those to us at six a.m., two p.m., and then ten p.m., cause this way sleep isn’t much disturbed. I suggest you guys set an alarm though.”

“I don’t know when I’ll be able to pay you back.” The student looks down.

“I don’t want you to pay me back.” Louis insists.

“D’you even get how fucking hard this is for me?” Harry looks at him exasperated. “No one ever gives me anything. I don’t know how to accept things. And I feel… Ashamed.”

“Hey, look at me.” Louis didn’t mean to touch him, but he ends up grabbing Harry by both arms and stilling the boy in front of him. “Out of all the things you could be ashamed of, namely, selling drugs, this right here, accepting help isn’t one of them.” He tells Harry. “If someone else needed it, I’d do it for them too. And I like to think that if I ever need help, somebody nice will give it to me. It’s not a shame to need things.”

“Yeah, sure.” He sighs. “Thanks for this, Louis.”

“You’re welcome, Harry. Hope your mother feels better. See you tomorrow.”

“See ya.”

The boy walks towards his motorcycle and Louis gets into the car. When he gets home, he’s exhausted, but there’s still one thing on his mind, so he showers, eats dinner, and then calls his mother.

 

Jay picks up on the third ring.

“Baby.” He can hear the smile on her voice.

“Hi, mom.”

“Hello. Do you need something else?”

“No, I… I just wanted to ask something.”

“Medicine related again?” She muses.

“No.” He rolls his eyes. “How did you- how did you know the student was Harry?” The teacher frowns.

“You seem to have taken a shine to him.”

“That bad?”

“Not as long as you don’t have feelings.”

“I don’t have feelings for a teenager, Mother, for fuck’s sake.” He rubs his face.

“I love how convincing you sound.”

“Do I not sound convincing?”

“You actually do, baby. Which is why when the realization that you’re wrong hits you in the face, this will be much harder to deal with. But we’re all going to be here.” Jay says calmly. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Ok, so let me get this straight, you think I’m going to have feelings for an eighteen year old boy because I worry about him?” He checks. That sounds so stupid.

“No, baby. Because of how you worry about him.” And Louis can almost picture his mother smiling smugly.

“Yeah, alright, Johanna. I’m beat, so I’m gonna turn in early tonight. Talk tomorrow.”

“Love you, Louis.”

“Love you too, Mom.”

 

-

 

Louis meets Nick at Zayn and Perrie’s apartment that Saturday, and he hates him instantly, but in the best way, really. He can keep up with Louis’ humor, and he tells some really cool jokes. Even Zayn, who usually isn’t much for people, laughs a lot around him, so Louis feels at ease very quickly.

Nick is witty and smart and they share the same interests. The man is into fashion, and his style is impeccable, and from what Louis can tell he’s not only one of Perrie’s friends, he’s also kind of her boss, but since he hates the word, he doesn’t act accordingly most of the time.

By the end of the night, Louis has had fun. He’s carefree and he’s happy, and he leaves his friends’ place with Nick’s number and a promise to call him sometime soon, which is actually the next day, resulting on a Thursday lunch and then a Friday dinner. At school, Zayn mocks Louis just a little, but Louis doesn’t care — he’s finally getting laid, after all.

 

-

 

Orientation Week starts in May, and on a Tuesday, owing to the fact that James believes nothing good ever happens on a Monday. He’s right, Louis figures. Everyone hates Mondays with a passion, and the fact that the school gave them all this Monday off, knowing the exhausting week they were all about to have, just makes them all the more excited for orientation.

Louis sits with Zayn, of course, and he’s happy to see some familiar names in the folder. The professors who are coming are renowned, and he takes pride in knowing that some of them are here for him, since they all worked in Princeton when Louis was a student. Two of them still do, another has unfortunately retired, but still gives speeches around, like this one. Louis owes a lot to those people.

 

“We are very happy to start this week with Professor Ernest Henley from NYU, and Professor Lydia Mendez, from Princeton University. They’re going to tell you all about their universities and its courses, and at the end you can asks questions. Professor Henley is going to start our morning, and the session will last until midday. Then we’ll stop, eat, and come back at two p.m. for Professor Mendez’ speech. All good?” Everyone nods. “Good. Welcome Professor Henley, from NYU.”

People clap and Professor Henley takes the stage. And then, the longest week of Louis’ professional life begins.

 

-

 

When the week finally comes to an end, they are all extremely tired. On Friday, all teachers reunite in the morning to hear James telling them that Professor Stanley, from MIT, is offering thirty students who are interested in the university a month-long course, since the university is paying him to stay here.

The school is going to supply a classroom, and the professor is going to come here at the end of the year. Quickly, all teachers become very happy and disbelieving; it’s hard for a public school like this one to get this much attention, but Simon has connections and people owing him things, so that’s what he brought to the table.

It’s awesome, really, Louis needs to give it to him, and he’s dying for Harry to be a part of this course, even if he’s not a senior and the priority is for seniors, but he also can’t be the one to suggest his name, otherwise they’ll know just how biased he is.

So Louis does the only thing he can think of: he begs Zayn to suggest it, and then he fights tooth and nail for Harry to get a spot.

“His grades still aren’t the best, Louis, and MIT doesn’t take strays.” Rob, the boss of Harry’s department, says.

“His grades do not reflect him, not in this case at least.” Zayn says. Bless him. “Objectively speaking, he is the best student I have. The kid’s got a big brain.”

“Harry’s working really hard. He isn’t going to fail this school year, which is already a big change from how he was when I got here.” Louis says.

“Because you’re working really hard with him, aren’t you, Tomlinson?” Simon smirks.

“Yes, Simon, I actually gave a crap about him, which’s all he needed. You don’t know half of what this boy goes through daily yet you’re always the first ones to judge.” His voice gets a bit louder. “Harry deserves a spot in this course.”

“I think he does too.” Julie, the science teacher, says. “He’s remarkable in my classes now.”

 

They argue over Harry for over twenty minutes. Other students barely take five. But at the end of the day, Harry gets a good recommendation, and Louis is the one who strolls happily around school to tell him about it.

 

-

 

At the end of the afternoon, they announce the course and the students who get it. Everyone claps for everyone, and the students seem genuinely excited, but when James announces Harry’s name, there’s absolute silence, and then a door being jerked open.

“I got him.” Zayn says and gets up faster than a bullet to go after the student.

Louis lasts until the end of the ceremony, but as soon as they are told the event is finally over, and everyone gets thanked for being here, Louis gets up from his chair and says goodnight to everybody and apologizes, since, unfortunately, hecan’t stay for the cocktail party (nor does he want to).

He doesn’t find them in the hallway, so he assumes they’re in Zayn’s classroom. It is kind of creepy to walk around the school when no one is there, but he fastens his footsteps and when he hears screaming, he knows where to find both teacher and student.

“THIS IS BULLSHIT AND YOU KNOW IT!” Harry yells and Louis opens the door, stepping into the room and closing it right behind him. “AND IT’S YOUR FAULT, ISN’T IT? FUCKING FUCK, LOUIS.”

“I told you I was the one who suggested your name.” Zayn says, apparently for the umpteenth time, cool as a cucumber.

“Did you ask him?” The student doesn’t look at his math teacher. His eyes are still glued on Louis.

“Yes.” Louis doesn’t lie.

“You son of a bitch…” Harry strides towards him.

“HEY!” Zayn raises his voice, stepping between them.

“’S okay, Zayn.” Louis sighs. “What you gonna do, Harry? Beat me up?” He snorts. “Prove them all right? Just so they can say I told you so when I fought for you? Just so everyone can see how not worth it you are?”

Harry rolls his eyes.

“Listen to me and listen fucking close, okay?” Louis steps closer. “You are not a fucking kid anymore. You’re the most adult eighteen year old I’ve ever met in my life, and the reason you’re like that is because life hasn’t ever been fair to you. No one fucking sees that. But I do. I did from the very first week, and now you’re getting a shot at doing and being something amazing.

I want you to have that shot because I think you’re worth it. And Zayn did what I asked him to do because he agrees with me too. He said you’re the best math student he has.”

“You are.” Zayn offers, arms crossed in front of his body.

“This is only going to happen at the end of the year. You’ll be a senior by then…”

“If I pass.” Harry points out.

“You will.” Louis assures him. “You will, ‘cause you’re working hard. Because you’re fucking smart and everyone else is wrong about you. You’re a smug prick, so it surprises me that you don’t want to shove it all to their faces now that you have the chance.”

“Do I really, though?” The student asks. “Guys like me don’t get into fucking MIT, Louis. Why take the fucking course? Why take the spot of someone who can actually get admitted to that school?”

“Why don’t you think you have a chance?” Zayn asks.

“Have you met me?” Harry snorts.

“Your past doesn’t have to be your future.” The math teacher says.

“I don’t have a future, Mr. Malik.” This is Harry’s saddest statement to the day. “My parents want me to finish school, so that’s what I’ll do. And then I’ll end up at a shit ass job much like my dad’s just so we’ll get by and not starve to death. There’s no silver lining for me, which I’ve made my peace with.”

“Why are you so sure of that?” Louis asks him, squinting his eyes. “There are scholarship programs; you can even get a sponsor. You might not be the brightest in geography but you’re great at everything that matters. You’re a good writer, you’re a genius with numbers, and you even understand French better than I do, and I studied this shit in college.”

“Life just isn’t like that, okay?” The boy seems tired.

“Harry.” Zayn speaks again. “If you could choose anything you’d like to be in the future. What would it be?”

He thinks. Not for a long time, but he thinks. Louis never asked him this question, so he’s apprehensive too. He wants to know.

“I’d like to be an engineer. Don’t know of what yet.”

“What better place to start than with fucking MIT, then?” The math teacher presses.

“What are my chances of ever getting in there, Mr. Malik?”

“You can get in anywhere else, though. Your life’s just starting, Harry.” His voice softens. “Don’t be mad at him, but Louis has told me a bit about you. And from what I could gather, it seems as though you’ve grown up thinking your fate is decided for you… But it isn’t. You get to decide your own future. Stop shitting all over my tests, and by the end of your senior year you’ll have the best recommendation letter from me, and Louis won’t be the only one fighting for you. And boy, does Louis fight for you.”

Louis cheeks redden, but he knows Zayn’s only telling the truth.

“You both really think I should take the course?” Harry finally asks.

“And work on your grades to apply to colleges, yes.” Zayn responds.

“A hundred percent.” Louis agrees.

“All right.” He takes a deep breath. “All right.”

“Good. Now, I’m going to attend the cocktail party because my wife isn’t cooking tonight. You two please lock the door when you leave.”

“Oh, we’re going too…” Louis says. “Not to the cocktail party, mind.”

He says goodbye to Zayn and promises to schedule something for the weekend. Apparently Liam broke up with Cheryl and wants a lads night; Louis rapidly wonders if he should invite Nick to that, who he’s been seeing for the past few weeks.

Harry walks out with him, but just follows Louis to his car. Because it’s already May, they don’t feel cold anymore; there’s a breeze every now and then, sure, but Louis is more than happy to welcome the hot weather. He hopes it gets at least “hot enough” for him to wear shorts at home without heaving to turn on the heater.

“I just walked out with you to thank you again. I’m going back to the cocktail party, cause, you know- food.” Harry voices quietly.

“Oh. Yeah. Uh. Sure. You didn’t have to. You don’t have to. I really wanted you to have that opportunity.” Louis says sincerely.

“I know.” The boy smiles. It used to be rare of him to do that. Now it’s a bit more common. “I don’t know exactly why you think I’m worth it, but, once again, thanks for doing so.”

“It’s all right.”

What happens next, surprises Louis more than anything ever. Harry steps closer and hugs him. Not a pat on the back, no. He actually hugs Louis; and Louis, who is also a very tactical guy, hugs him back.

Harry’s warm and comfortable and big, and when he squeezes Louis in his arms and says thank you again, Louis forgets his age and who he is, and just enjoys the feeling of being held.

“You are welcome.” He finds his voice to reply. “G’night, Harry.”

“Night, Louis.” The boy smiles.

Louis drives home without turning on the radio, just thinking about the day and the things he’s done. When he finally makes it to his apartment, he feels like he needs a pint, so he ends up at Niall’s bar again.

He talks to him and texts his friends from home. He also talks a bit to Lottie, and texts back and forth with Nick.

Later, when Zayn’s probably already back home, he receives a text from his friend:

Harry charmed the pants off of Stanley at the cocktail party. Boy’s got everything, doesn’t he?

And then another one:

I think he’ll be a star at the end of his senior year.

And another one:

Good call, Lou.

  
He drunkenly replies a yeah and thanks, dude. But clearer than anything, Louis recognizes the feeling in the pit of his stomach. He’s really fucking proud of Harry.


	6. WE'LL ALL BE

 

 

**_"We all have been degraded; we all will be the greatest."_ **

 

 

The end of the semester is always the only time Louis regrets being a teacher. There’s just so much to be done every single day between May and June that whenever he gets to simply hang out with friends and have a good time, it seems like the world is a new place. Tonight he’s at the bar with Liam and Nick, and they won’t stop talking about football - which Louis abhors, by the way -, so he just focuses on Niall trying to hit on yet another customer.

He’s a great guy; Louis really can’t understand how this man doesn’t have a girlfriend. And then, as if the universe is replying to him, Niall makes a terrible joke - one of those only Harry would appreciate, probably -, the girl turns around, and he gets it. 

“Why aren’t Zayn and Perrie here?” Nick asks Louis.

“Something ‘bout Perrie having a horrible boss and a deadline to meet in the morning, and Zayn needing to grade papers.” Louis jokes and squeezes his date’s thigh to reinforce it.

“Hey, I’m great with deadlines, she just leaves everything to the last minute, apparently. Not my fault.” He sips from his beer and gives Louis a side-smile.

“Shouldn’t you be grading papers too?” Liam questions him.

“Yes,” he groans. “But I’m clearly irresponsible.”

“For real?”

“No, Liam.” He rolls his eyes. “I grade my papers and tests while Harry studies in the afternoon.”

“Who’s Harry?” Nick asks.

“Louis’ pupil,” the officer answers. 

“Told you about him, haven’t I?” The teacher frowns; he really isn’t sure now.

“If you did, I don’t remember.” His date replies.

“Harry’s had more encounters with the police in his eighteen years of life than I can count,” Liam offers. “Comes from a fucked up neighborhood, got mixed in some shit. But Louis wasn’t having any of it when he got here at the beginning of the year. It’s like Harry’s a new person now.”

“He’s still struggling. But at least you haven’t arrested him again, so cheers,” Louis lifts his beer and celebrates.

“Is he gonna pass the school year?” Liam asks him.

“Yeah,” he can’t help the smile the spreads on his face. “He got into an MIT prep course too, but that’s only happening in November.”

“Oh wow. You basically worked  _ magic _ on that kid, didn’t you?” Nick smiles, pulling him by the waist.

Louis is only a bit uncomfortable that he refers to Harry as a  _ kid _ , but as it is, he just fits his head in the crook of his neck and whispers in his ear:

“Don’t know about that, but I’m definitely working some  _ magic _ on you tonight.” Nick stiffens, Louis smirks, and they change topics.

 

-

 

His sister calls him two weeks before he’s due to fly to California, and he already has the jitters because fuck it if he doesn’t miss home. No matter where Louis goes, he loves the way Californians speak - slow, and well explained, and almost like they’re singing. He likes the slangs, and he likes how open they are.

Most people think they’re plastic, but they rarely bother to look past Los Angeles. There are some great people there, and whenever Louis stays away for too long, he begins to feel a little bit homesick.

You see, he never imagined he’d want to go back. He was always aware of how in love he was with that place, and its weather and its beaches. The seafood didn’t hurt either. But he’s always had a clear vision that his future wouldn’t be there, that he’d do more, go further.

And then one day, when Lottie was fourteen, he thinks, they were watching a Hannah Montana movie together, and she sang that you can change a bunch of things in life, but that “you’ll always find your way back home”. In a way, he finds it to be true now. If Louis could, he’d go back to living there.

The thought, however, goes just as fast as it comes, and suddenly he’s answering a hundred questions per minute, since his sister is basically interrogating him about Chicago and if they can spend the last week of the summer there, just so she can get around the city. The farthest she’s ever been was New York City, for her sixteenth birthday, and Louis feels like he can’t say no to that.

“Are mom and dad okay with it?” He asks first.

_ “Believe it or not, I am not a kid, Louis.”  _ She huffs out. Then:  _ “Yes, I’ve talked to them.”  _ Louis smirks.  _ “Were they like this with you too or is it because I’m a girl? Be honest.” _

“They were like this with me too. Still are. Dad texts me every morning, and if I don’t call Mom at least four times a week she goes mad.” Louis chuckles. “I think it’s worse with you because you study at UCLA, which’s still pretty close to home. When I got into Princeton they had no choice but to let me go.”

_ “Ugh! I should’ve chosen Brown.” _

“And give up your everlasting tan?” He jokes.

_ “You’re right, I could never.”  _ Lottie agrees with him.

“D’you see the babies a lot?”

_ “Louis. I basically still live at home, I see the babies every weekend. Ernie now mocks Doris because she calls you Achoo.”  _ Louis laughs at that.

“Can’t wait to see them.”

_ “Just them, you bastard?” _

“Language. And yeah.”

_ “Well, fuck you.” _

“Please don’t, I don’t like women or incest.”

_ “Good to see you have your priorities straight there…” _ Lottie muses.

“Oi, piss off, will ya?” He chuckles. “I gotta go, have a meeting in five. See you soon, Lots.”

_ “See you, Lou _ .”

 

It is the last meeting of the school year. The last one and then he’ll spend two whole months without having to look these people in the face. Well, not all of them. Hopefully he’ll see Zayn a lot, if he can drag him and Perrie to the other side of the country for at least a few days. But the other teachers, Louis will gladly forget for over sixty days.

This is something else that adds up to his “going home” pros list. He likes the school, he loves his students, and so far Chicagoans and their city have treated him fairly well. Louis already feels like a local, and that’s a hard thing for him, to get used to places this easily.

But he thought he’d have more people. He misses Oli and Calvin like crazy, and the huge group of people they had back in college. He misses having a specific place to have coffee in the morning and lunch in the afternoon, and he misses knowing his doorman’s family. 

So far, he’s only a regular at  _ A.M. _ because 1) Niall, 2) it’s close to his place, and 3) apart from the bar owner, Zayn, and Liam, there isn’t really anyone to entertain him here. And maybe this sounds childish, and Louis isn’t a kid. He  _ has _ people, he knows he does. It’s not like he needs to mail letters to talk to his friends.

Louis is always texting back and forth with them. The other day he even face-timed with Ashton, whom he hasn’t seen in forever. But that’s the point, isn’t it? There’s a bunch of people he hasn’t seen in forever. High school and college friends who all somehow wound up in different places, and that sucks.

It sucks because Louis isn’t someone who trusts easily. The relationships he’s built in life are some that he intends to keep until the end of it, and the thought of not being next to them sucks once he looks around and thinks that if he were back in Cali, he’d call Luke up and drive to his place just to watch TV shows. And if Luke weren’t available, he could always try Eleanor, or Alex, or Julie.

Around here though, Zayn and Perrie are busy, Liam has weird shifts, and Niall is literally always working. And his options end right there, because he can’t consider Nick a sure thing, he  _ can’t _ , and here’s why: they aren’t going to fall in love. They just aren’t.

It’s horrible, but it’s true. Louis doesn’t believe in love at first sight, but he also doesn’t believe in falling in love after being in a relationship. He  _ knows _ it’s not a rule, and he  _ knows _ it’s not the same for everybody. He knows a bunch of people who start dating, get into committed relationships, and months, even years later decide that they love their partner. He thinks it’s okay, but it isn’t for him.

He’s the kind of person who falls in love first, becomes committed later. In his book, it isn’t right to tell someone you’ll be with them and them only if you aren’t sure your feelings are there; he thinks that, because of that, so many couples lie, and cheat, and get tired of each other.

So no, Louis can’t count on Nick as a sure thing because he doesn’t want him to be sure thing. He doesn’t want to be unfair to this fair man, who is, indeed, funny, and smart, and handsome, and good in bed. But who doesn’t spark anything in Louis. Who doesn’t make him ridiculously happy just by staring at him, who doesn’t make his skin shiver just with the sound of his voice.

Louis is an all in or all out kind of guy. And until he can be all in with someone, he’s not going to pretend he’s in love with them.

Which brings him back to the loneliness he feels every now and then, and how bored he gets sometimes (just sometimes, because, like he said, he’s okay here most of the time — for real), and how  _ happy _ he is that the school year is almost over, and he’ll be able to  _ not _ see those teachers for a while.

 

At the meeting, they discuss their students’ situations, show their personal report cards, talk about who is and who isn’t going to pass. They start with the freshmen and then make their way up. Louis doesn’t understand why Simon of all people gets to lead the meeting, but in the absence of James — whose wife is in labor as they speak —, the oldest teacher gets to take his place.

“Old indeed,” Zayn murmurs after arriving late and sitting by Louis’ side.

“The hell were you?”

“You really wanna know?” Louis simply raises his brows. “Fucking my wife in your boyfriend’s office. Happy?” He smirks.

“Gross. And he’s not my boyfriend.”

“He wants to be.”

“Tough luck.” He replies.

“Why aren’t you letting him in, Louis?” His friend frowns.

“I am. And he is. In, I mean. He’s just- not filling the space in the right way.”

“Is that code for  _ he has a small dick _ ?” He whispers again.

Louis coughs to hide his laughter.

“What the fuck, no!” He scream-whispers. “His dick’s pretty average. I mean I don’t feel anything for him. ’S not like I’m keeping my heart locked or anything, it’s just…” Louis shrugs.

Zayn nods, and then they start this long, arduous day.

 

-

 

The meeting ends at two p.m. in the afternoon, and apart from next Monday, when Louis will have to come here and give his students their grades, he is done. Louis puts a smile on his face and starts walking towards the exit, when Zayn stops him.

“Lou, the seniors are playing soccer on Friday afternoon. You in?” He asks.

“Uh, yeah, sure. Pick me up at home?”

“At three. Don’t be late.”

Louis rolls his eyes and screams  _ goodbye, Malik _ , making sure that everyone around hears him.

 

Upon getting to the parking lot, he finds Harry waiting for him against his car. He’s got his signature black jeans, but he’s wearing a shirt Louis has never seen before. It’s bright orange and it’d probably look horrendous on anybody else but him. Louis thinks it’s the curls — they disguise the rest.

“You lurking around my car to trash it again, Styles?” Louis asks approaching him.

“Not particularly, no. Still only half sorry about that.” 

“Hm. You’re done with school, why are you here?”

“To give this to you.” He hands Louis a cup of coffee. The teacher is  _ very  _ confused. “You’ve been sneaking me snacks from the cafeteria ever since I told you I couldn’t eat at school.”

“You shouldn’t have spent money on me. Thank you, though.” Louis smiles.

“I didn’t. I actually, uh- got a job? ’S just for the summer, but-”

“What? Harry, that’s amazing!” His smile grows even bigger.

“It’s at a cafeteria just outside my neighborhood, the coffee’s probably cold and shit by now, it was a stupid idea to bring it all the way here; I just uh-” he looks down, almost as if he’s ashamed, “I just do the dishes, basically, but.”

“Harry.” Louis calls his name again; the student looks at him. “I am  _ so _ happy for you. And you-  _ thank you _ . For thinking of me.”

The teacher doesn’t say it, and he didn’t even want to  _ think  _ about it, but he was very afraid of Harry going back to old habits during Summer, especially because Louis isn’t going to be here, but now…

“How did you get it?” He smiles.

“My mom works for this lady whose husband owns the shop, she overheard they needed someone, then she told me the story and I just thought it’d be a good idea.” Harry still doesn’t look at him. Louis can’t believe he’s embarrassed for doing something so  _ good.  _ “They didn’t check my records, which helped,” he chuckles. “They’re paying me weekly too, and that’s good because I can actually start helping Mom and Dad.”

“What about… Jeff and Mark? Do they know?” He asks, because he has to.

“Yes.”

“And?”

“They didn’t like it,” the student grimaces. “Things are still shit, though. They have been selling less and less because of some other gang and even though the shootings have stopped they haven’t… Really?”

“How so?” Louis frowns.

“They still fight at night, but now they wait for everybody to get inside their houses. The new curfew is nine o’clock.”

“‘M sorry.”

“’S better than it was.” There’s a pause. “Anyway. This shit coffee was a thank you. For. You know. Setting me straight. Or as straight as I’ll ever be.” He chuckles.

“‘M not sure if that was a sexuality pun or not.”

“It was.” Harry nods. “My parents went from having a dumb, drug dealer, gay of a son to only having a gay son now. Isn’t that the dream?” He smiles ironically.

“You were never dumb. And if I were your parents, I’d be extremely proud of you. I  _ am _ very proud of you. If that counts.”

“It does. And they seem to be.” Harry nods, a real smile appearing now.

“You’ve come very far in just six months.” Louis assures him. “And you  _ do _ have a brilliant future.”

“You’re letting me dream, Mr. Tomlinson.” Harry warns him.

“Everyone is allowed to dream. Don’t act like it’s a bad thing.” Louis says.

“I really should go back to work now.”

“Need a ride? I’m just going home.”

Harry shakes his head.

“Nah, thanks, it’s out of your way.” He’s never sounded so Chicagoan. His accent is borderline funny. Louis opens the car door. “Have a good weekend, Louis.”

“Come back for your grades on Monday,” Louis raises an eyebrow, gets inside the car. 

“Did I pass?” Harry gives him a winning smile.

The teacher doesn’t tell him he got B pluses and minuses in almost every subject. Instead, he just closes the door and says  _ see you on Monday _ , and  _ thanks again _ .

He sips the coffee and yes, it is cold, and it does taste like shit. 

Louis drinks it to the last drop.

 

-

 

On Friday, Louis plays soccer with Zayn and the senior students.

On Saturday, the seniors have their prom, and Louis goes out with Nick.

On Monday, he gives everybody their grades and only tears up a bit when the students who are leaving school for college give him gifts and cards and pretty  _ thank you _ notes. He only stayed with them for six months, and he’s amazed by how much he’s accomplished.

On Tuesday, Niall takes him to the airport and Louis boards a plane to California, with the certainty that an amazing summer is awaiting for him. Or is it?

 

-

 

The city is  _ hot _ . Louis hadn’t forgotten that, but as soon as he steps out of the plane, the San Francisco heat hits him in the face and it isn’t forgiving. Not at all. He knows his father is waiting for him at the gate, and that he should hurry, but Louis makes a detour and goes to the restroom — he needs to wash his face ASAP.

His phone vibrates in his pocket, and both Liam and Niall want to know his whereabouts. Zayn hasn’t even woken up yet, probably, otherwise he’d be texting too. Those men are all like old ladies.

Louis freshens up and then strolls around the airport carrying only a backpack and a small suitcase; he still has some clothes at home and, if everything goes according to plan, he won’t need anything apart from swimsuits and towels. Louis intends to work on his tan while he’s here.

 

“Dad!” He exclaims as soon as he sees him at the gate, leaning on a wall, texting on his phone.

Mark raises his head instantly and the smile on his face is relieved one. Louis’ father really dislikes airplanes, and whenever one of them is flying, he gets in an unbearable state.

“Finally.” Mark sighs as Louis approaches. They hug fairly quickly, and then Louis steps back. “How was the trip? Airplane okay?

“Trip was great, Dad, and yes, the plane was just fine. We didn’t go through any turbulence, really.”

“Phew, that’s good.” He sighs. “Need help with that?”

“Nah, I’m good. Mom at home?” Louis asks him as they start walking.

“No, she’s at the clinic. We’re working this whole week, but we’re gonna close it for next week so we can all have some family time together. Lottie’s coming on Friday, so we thought we’d have a barbecue, maybe? Invite some of your friends.”

“That’d be amazing, actually, it’s been forever since I’ve seen them. But you don’t have to do it for me.”

“Louis, please, your mom’s been planning this for ages now.” Mark chuckles. They reach the car and have a gap of silence whilst putting the suitcase in the trunk, backpack in the backseat, situate themselves, and then buckle up. “Seriously. She really wants to throw a  _ Beginning of the Summer  _ party, it’s how she’s calling.”

“Feels very teenagey to have my friends over like that.”

“Please,” his dad snorts. “You’ll get barbecue and free beer, and friends. That’s the dream.”

“Yeah, gotta give you that. Gonna call some people.” He looks out the window. “Jesus, this city’s exactly the same!” Louis sighs.

“And still crawling with tourists. Even in winter, this year we got a lot of them.” Mark comments.

“Really?”

“Yes… Speaking of, how did you survive Chicago’s winter?”

“Barely.” He groans. “I seriously don’t know how people live in  _ houses _ in Chicago; they actually have to wake up  _ earlier _ to shovel all that snow just so they can get to work. Fucking hell.” Louis complains. “The only plus side was that on really hard snow days we got to stay home…” He tells him.

And there is nothing new.

Louis has already told him everything along these months, but his dad asks things again and again and he answers him with even more details than last time just because he  _ can _ . Because he wants to.

They stop at the supermarket to buy stuff for dinner and decide to buy a bunch of things they do not need. Jay is a kids doctor, she needs to set them an example, so she’s always in shape. Lottie is a health freak, so she’s always on a diet. But Louis and Mark? Nah. They like to pig out on whatever’s very bad for the heart and the belly.

Truth be told, Louis has been eating a lot better since he became an adult, but, still, he won’t ever pass up the opportunity to eat garbage, please respect him. And, because of that, they take longer than they expected at the supermarket, and when they get home, they barely have time to put everything away before Jay arrives.

Louis hugs his mom tight for at least two full minutes. They exchange words over each other’s shoulders, but he can’t let go of her, not yet. Louis  _ loves _ Mark, and he’s been in love with Lottie and the other twins ever since they arrived in this world, but nothing ever compares to a mother’s embrace.

“Where are my babies?” He asks.

“Hellen’s bringing them from daycare. And they’re not babies, Lou, they’re starting kindergarten in September.” His mother points out.

“Please, don’t remind me how old I am.” He groans and sits on a stool. “Dad, pass me a beer, please.”

Mark tosses him one and Jay sits across from him.

“So, how was the trip? How’s school?”

Louis starts it all over again.

Around five thirty Hellen — their neighbor who also has toddlers — arrives from daycare with Doris and Ernest, and they interrupt their conversation to talk to them. Louis is buried in kids for at least half an hour, because he just misses them  _ so _ much. Doris comments on his hair, which’s too short, according to her, and Ernie has a hundred and one questions about where Louis was all this time.

He helps his mother with them for the rest of the evening, bathing them and picking stupid clothes, while Mark works on dinner downstairs. Jay tries to fit bits and pieces of her day at work while they deal with the almost four year olds, but they both know the only time they’ll talk is when Doris and Ernest are already sound asleep.

When that happens, though, it’s nine p.m., and everyone is exhausted. Louis is used to working through it, refuses to admit he’s sleepy that early, but his parents aren’t, and apologize, asking if they can  _ please  _ talk over breakfast.

“Do not wake me up early.” He warns before going into his room.

Jay nods and Mark laughs.

Next day, Louis wakes up with water in his hair. He hates his father. Except that, you know, he loves him a lot.

 

Friday arrives very quickly, and Louis instantly offers himself to go pick Lottie up. It’s roughly a three hour drive, two and a half if he speeds up, the traffic helps, and he doesn’t stop, but Louis isn’t in a hurry. It’s good to just enjoy the cities. Each neighborhood he drives by holds fond memories for him, and he’s grateful to be able to do this.

Louis often wonders where he’d be right now if he had taken the scholarship UCLA offered him instead of going to Princeton — where he  _ also _ got a scholarship, by the way. His life would be definitely different. He doesn’t think he’d have wound up in Chicago, for instance.

He wouldn’t have met everyone; he wouldn’t have had fun nights with Niall and wouldn’t be helping Liam go through his breakup. He wouldn’t have been able to help Harry and God knows where that boy would be right now. And he wouldn’t have met Zayn and Perrie, friends for life.

He actually calls Zayn when he’s entering Los Angeles just to try and convince him to come here, and the man just groans and says he’ll punch Louis if he asks one more time, but Perrie assures him that they’ll make it there before Louis gives up and comes back to Chicago. After that, Louis hangs up, and a while later he texts his sister to let her know he’s arriving.

 

“LOU! Here!” She yells and waves when she sees him, and Louis turns his head around.

Lottie’s waiting out of her dorm, much like Louis, she’s only carrying a backpack and a suitcase. He pretends he isn’t  _ scared _ of how much she’s changed physically in so little time. 

“Did you get extensions?” He frowns.

“Missed you too, you idiot.” Lottie rolls her eyes and Louis hugs her tight, twirling with her in his arms. 

“Missed you a lot, Lots.” Louis whispers. “You look different.”

“Prettier?”

“Yeah.” He thinks she looks just like their mom. It’s as disturbing as it is amazing.

“Thanks for picking me up. I left my car in San Diego last week ‘cause Dad said he’d take it for an oil change, and I didn’t feel like taking trains or busses.”

“You’re good, kiddo. And I was the one who took your car for an oil change  _ yesterday _ . You’re welcome.” He winks, arm slung over her shoulder. “Hello, there,” Louis then says to her friends.

“Oh, yes. These are Maggie, Jannet and Samuel.” She says quickly.

They all wave and say  _ hi  _ back, and Louis is only half freaked out by Samuel’s hair, which is gorgeous, but exactly like Harry’s.  _ Focus _ .

“So, shall we? It’s a long way back.” He asks her.

“Don’t you wanna eat something first?”

And that’s how Louis ends up at a diner with Lottie and her friends. All in all, it isn’t that bad, especially because he isn’t that much older than them, but it’s still incredible to see how different you become once you finish college and get a proper job. Louis misses his school days, but he does not want to go back to them. Nope. Definitely not. Thank you very much.

 

-

 

The barbecue ends up being on a Saturday, and the house is full. Their backyard is illuminated by the prettiest lights, and apart from Louis’ and Lottie’s friends, his parents decided to invite the entire neighborhood too. Leave it to Johanna Tomlinson to throw a party like that.

And Louis gets  _ drunk _ . He’s gotten tipsy in Chicago, and more than once Niall drove him home. But tonight Louis decides he’s  _ home _ , and he can get absolutely sloshed and no one is going to judge or blame him. He can do it.

They play a bunch of stupid games, Louis, Lottie and their friends, and that’s why it’s three a.m., all the  _ real adults _ (like Julie calls their parents) and kids are sleeping, and they’re still singing karaoke and thinking about skinny dipping in the pool.

“Is this the night you and Luke finally hook up?” Eleanor asks him.

“What?” Louis looks at her funnily.

“C’mon, we’ve been waiting for literal years.” Alexander, or, well, Alex elbows him.

“You guys insane?”

“No, you are!” Eleanor slaps him. “You’re both so hot.”

“Luke’s straight?” He frowns. “Honestly, you two. Go fuck yourselves, honestly, because  _ that _ sexual tension’s been killing me since seventh grade. Now excuse me.” He snorts and gets up from the carpet, going to find Luke and tell him this ridiculous idea.

Which— Luke doesn’t think it’s ridiculous at all. Because, apparently, he’s always wanted to hook up with Louis. What the fuck?

 

“Weren’t you straight?” He asks, beer in hand.

“I am.” Luke laughs. “Well, don’t know. Maybe bi? You’re the only guy I’ve ever wanted to mess around with, so maybe it’s a Louis thing.”

“This is crazy.” Louis widens his eyes.

“I don’t have feelings for you, Tommo, I just wanted to grab your ass.”  _ Classy. _ “You’re my best friend, and you’re hot, and I’ve always been curious. Don’t sweat.”

“Fuck, I’m so drunk.” Louis says before he kisses him in front of everyone.

They make out as if they were in a porn, and everyone, including his sister and her two friends who are staying over, whistles and claps, and then when Luke does grab his ass and Louis pulls his hair, their tongues entwined, Alex yells and hugs them both, throwing them in the pool.

“IDIOT!” Louis yells, but the water’s warm, and suddenly everyone’s discarding their clothes and getting inside.

“Have all your dreams come true, Lucas?” Julie, another one of their friends, swims closer to Louis and Luke.

“Yeah,” Luke smirks.

Louis rolls his eyes and throws water at him. Luke pulls him again and kisses Louis soundly. It’s a good kiss. Better than Nick’s, for sure. He lets his childhood friend kiss him against the edge of the pool till sunrise, and then they decide they are never ever doing it again.

Lottie swims closer to him and asks if Louis is okay. And yes, he is okay. He’s home.

He takes a picture of the sunrise, his friends nothing but silhouettes against the big star, and captions it with  _ here comes the sun, little darling _ . Harry’s the first one to like the picture. 

Louis didn’t even know he followed him on Instagram, but after that first one, Harry’s always the first one to like every picture Louis posts. When Louis posts one with the kids, Harry even  _ comments  _ on it, something about their eyes being the same. Louis likes the comment, but doesn’t reply. There’s gotta be some boundary here, even though he’s dying to know if the boy is still working, if things are okay in his neighborhood, if Harry has been eating three full meals a day.

He sighs and closes his eyes, massaging his temple.

It’s four p.m. and they had a full day at the beach. Ernie has his head on Louis’ lap, sleeping soundly while a cartoon is on TV, and Lottie’s just taken Doris upstairs. Mark is asleep too.

“Need me to take him upstairs?” Jay asks Louis, coming into the kitchen. “We’ll let him sleep till six, then we’ll wake him up for dinner.”

“Oh. I can take him.” He smiles. “Jesus, he’s getting heavy.”

Louis remembers when he was just a tiny, tiny thing and he used to call him a  _ package _ . He was so excited to have a baby brother and a new baby sister. Louis lives for babies.

He puts Ernie to bed and finds Lottie lying down with Doris. She’s playing on her phone, but Louis knows she’s gonna doze off at any moment now.

 

“How do they sleep so much?” He asks Jay, back in the living room. “I love sleeping, but I never sleep in the afternoon.”

“You’re like me. Your siblings took after your father. They can sleep anywhere, at any time.” Jay chuckles.

“It’s annoying, really.”

“It is.” His mother muses. “So. Can you believe this is our first real alone time since you got here?”

“To be fair it’s been less than two weeks, I’d count this as victory.” Louis jokes. 

“How’s Nick, Louis?” She asks.

Louis told her about Nick only a few days before coming here; the twins wanted to see him, but he didn’t have time, since he was about to go out… With Nick. And Louis never lies to his mom.

“Good, I think. We haven’t talked much since I got here.”

“Oh.” Her eyes widen slightly. “I thought you guys were… Serious?”

“No. No, no, God, no.” Louis figures there are too many  _ no _ ’s there, but. “We aren’t exclusive, and we definitely aren’t  _ serious _ . I don’t like him like that.”

“Oh.” Jay says again, disappointed this time. “Nick sounds nice.”

“He is.” He smiles. “He just- there’s nothing there.”

“But how can you know there won’t be?”

“How can you  _ not _ ?” Louis is not as exasperated as he sounds; he’s just tired of explaining the same thing to different people. “You know when you go on a first date and all the jitters are there? You obsess over what you’re going to wear, and how your hair looks, and just- it’s exciting?” Jay nods. “Nothing like this happened. Nothing like this happens. He’s really nice, Mom. To blow off some steam, to have a good pint and a good laugh.”

“And good sex, I presume.”

“Yes, that too.” He agrees, because apparently they have no boundaries. “But I’ve made it very clear, what this was. And he was a hundred percent on board with it.”

“Good.” She smiles. “What about Harry?”

“What about him?”

“How is he?”

“I don’t know, think he’s alright. He got a job, you know.” Louis smiles involuntarily.

“He got a  _ job _ ?” His mom celebrates. “Oh my God, that’s wonderful! Why haven’t you told me this before?”

“Cause I didn’t think you’d… Care? You don’t even know him.” He chuckles.

“You’ve been talking ‘bout this boy since day one, Louis. Plus, Oli visited me after he visited you, and only had good things to say. He thinks Harry’d kiss the ground you walk on if you asked him.” And the way she says it, it’s so… Knowingly. So much like she’s in on a joke Louis hasn’t gotten yet. Only it isn’t funny, because she isn’t laughing. Somehow that’s scarier.

“Nah, he was exaggerating; I think Harry thinks of me as a pain in the ass most of the time.” He looks down coyly. “But he did show up at school with a cold coffee in his hand at the end of the semester, to tell me about the job and- thank me. Yeah.”

“Aw, Lou, that’s so cute!”

“It really isn’t.” Louis looks at her. “I mean, you’re not right about me having feelings for him, you know? I’m very up to date with  _ my _ feelings, and my ethics, most of all. But you’re right when you say I worry too much about him.”

“I never said it as a bad thing.”

“No, I know, but it kinda is, isn’t it?” He grimaces. 

“Do you think about him?”

“Often.” The teacher admits. His mom is gracious enough not to interrupt him. “I’m scared for him; I’ve seen where he lives and it’s horrible. Liam, my neighbor who’s a police officer, is always telling me stories about how dangerous it is there, and- Mom, he didn’t have anything to  _ eat _ at the beginning of the year.”

“And you bought his mom her medicine.”

“Yeah, because I knew he’d ask Jeff or Mark for help, and then-”

“Who’s Jeff and who’s Mark?”

“They’re the bosses in that area, or something like that. They were the ones keeping him on a leash, Harry sold their stuff.”

“Since when?”

“Since he was fourteen, fifteen, not sure.”

“Jesus Christ on a cross.” Jay places both hands on her heart. “If I were his mother I’d have died of a heart attack by now. That’s so dangerous.”

“It is. Saddest part is that he didn’t used to realize how dangerous it was; it kind of was everything he knew.” Louis looks at her, finally. “But he’s so much better now, Mom. I’m still worried, but. I know he’s better.”

“And you have no way of checking in with him?”

“Don’t wanna be creepy. Boundaries and all.”

“I get it,” she sighs. 

“Yeah, anyways. Update me on your life. How are things with  _ you _ ? Did you finally go back to yoga?”

They talk until everyone wakes up, and then Lottie and Jay start on dinner while Louis, Mark and the twins play in the living room, a football game from the 1980’s on TV. Louis sometimes feels like a horrible American for not liking football, but oh well. Soccer stole his heart ever since he learned how to run with a ball.

The next few days are easy. He goes to bed late and wakes up late, and takes care of the kids with his sister. They revisit museums, go to parks, and to the beach. Louis meets up with his friends to surf, and at night they go to bars together. He even goes dancing one night and kisses a stranger - it had been forever since he’d done  _ that _ .

Mostly, he enjoys California. One Saturday, when he knows both of his parents will be home, he wakes up at the crack of dawn to just… Drive. He leaves them a note, and drives for five hours to the hills. He stays there for a couple of hours, eats something, then starts driving back home again.

He enjoys the scenery, and the weather, and he smiles up at the sun, trying to remember exactly how it feels like when he’s back in Chicago, and the shy warmness of the summer there makes him sort of grumpy.

 

It’s on his third Monday in San Diego that everything goes to shit. Around lunchtime, his phone rings. Louis doesn’t know the number, but he picks up anyway, figuring that if it’s someone trying to sell him something, he can just hang up on them and block it afterwards.

But it isn’t. He’s with Doris playing dolls in the backyard, and he absentmindedly picks it up, having no idea of what is waiting for him on the other line.

“Hello.” He says, a breezy sound to this voice. This is what happens whenever he spends enough time in his hometown.

_ “Louis.” _ Louis knows that voice. He’s never known it this  _ broken _ , but he knows that voice.  _ “Louis, it’s- it’s Harry, Styles. Uh. Are you there?” _

“Harry, hey, what’s going on?” He frowns. He doesn’t remember giving Harry his number, but that isn’t important now. “Harry!” Louis calls his name again once the boy doesn’t reply.

There’s panting and crying and just plain brokenness, and Louis doesn’t know what’s going on.

_ “Louis, I need you.”  _ He breathes out in Louis’ ear.

“I’m-” Louis swallows thickly. “Where are you?”

_ “Your doorstep.”  _ Another whimper. A sniffle.  _ “Please, I got nowhere else to go.” _

He curses himself a hundred times, because he’s an asshole who didn’t leave keys with Liam, or Niall, or under the fucking mat.

“I’ll get on the next flight. I’m in San Diego, I’m  _ sorry _ . I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

_ “Okay.” _

They say a fast goodbye and Louis gets up in a hurry, taking Doris inside with him and apologizing to her for cutting their play session short. Louis is like a maniac when he starts screaming for Lottie in the house, and she shows up running at the bottom of the stairs like she’s scared.

His sister tells him that he  _ indeed _ scared her shitless, and then Louis tells her what’s going on. Lottie doesn’t know  _ much _ about Harry, not like Jay, but she knows, by now, that he’s kind of important to Louis, and she tells him to pack as fast as he can that she’ll take him to the airport.

Louis changes and packs in twenty minutes, just enough time for Lottie to call their neighbor and ask her if she can watch the twins for an hour or so, since their parents are both at work. He’s the one to take the kids to the neighbor’s house and explains it’s an emergency, and when he gets back Lottie is showered and ready to go.

He’s quiet; he knows he is. And the entire car ride is filled with Lottie looking at him worriedly even though she keeps quiet. His sister is a blessing.

What’s fucking Louis up the most is that he doesn’t know  _ what _ happened to Harry. He has a few theories, but he doesn’t know for  _ sure _ , and he would’ve asked if he thought Harry was in any condition whatsoever to reply. As it is, he simply tries and fails not to think about it.

 

When they make it to the airport, Lottie hugs him real tight and wishes him luck.

“Please let Mom and Dad know. I’ll call them as soon as I can.”

“And me too, please.” His sister asks him.

“Of course. Thank you, Lots.” He hugs her again. “Love you.”

“Love you too, Lou.”

 

-

 

The hour and a half he waits for the next flight to take off is horrible, but he makes through it with a book and one coffee after the other. He leaves around three p.m. LA time, which means he makes it to Chicago around nine p.m.  _ Chicago _ time, and when he finally gets to his house, almost at ten o’clock, he’s fairly certain Harry isn’t going to be there anymore, and is already fishing his phone out of his pocket to call him when the elevator door opens and he sees the boy there, sitting on his doorstep, eyes red and McDonald’s bag by his side.

“Harry.” Louis sighs.

“Finally.” The boy gets up. His voice every bit as bad as before.

Harry’s wearing his work clothes, and his hair’s a mess.

“What happened?”

“My dad got shot, I don’t think he’s going to make it. Mom’s at the hospital, I can’t stay there, and I- I didn’t know what to do, I had” - hiccups - “I had nowhere else to go.” And Louis is barely opening his arms when Harry’s already there, head on his shoulder, body resting on his, crying, and crying, and crying.

Louis’ grip on him is tight and unyielding. He runs his hands through the boy’s hair while murmuring  _ it’s okay, everything is going to be okay _ while Harry cries and cries and cries some more. 

“You’re safe, H.” Louis whispers in his ear.

“I know.” Harry whispers back. And he still doesn’t let go.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone asked me if there is a romantic ending for H and L here and I the answer is YES, OF COURSE, ALWAYS. But there's a build up, so be patient; we are going to get there :)
> 
> Thank y'all so much!  
> All the love as always,  
> M. Xx


	7. MAN OF THE HOUR

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I didn't update yesterday; the elections in Brazil are killing me.  
> Here's the new chapter. Hope you like it.  
> Love,  
> M. Xx

 

 

**_"The man of the hour is taking his final bow, goodbye for now."_ **

  
  


It takes them a few minutes to get inside the apartment.

Louis has a difficult time letting go, he just wants to protect Harry from his sadness, but eventually he needs to, in order to find his key and finally open the door. He leads Harry inside and then goes back for his backpack and suitcase, that were forgotten in the hallway for a while.

Harry’s still sniffling, but his tears have subsided for now. He leads the boy to the couch and then goes to the kitchen to get them  _ both _ some water, and then runs to the bathroom to find painkillers; his head is already killing him, and he thinks Harry might be just as bad.

“Here, have an aspirin,” Louis says softly as he sits by his side and hands him the pill alongside a glass of water.

“Thanks.” Harry replies.

The teacher swallows his pill too and drinks his water to the last drop. Then he gets his phone and texts his mom simple words:  _ home and okay, talk later. _

 

“Louis, I think I need you to hug me again.” Harry blurts out after a few minutes of silence.

“Come here.” And so they hug some more. Harry’s not crying, but he’s trembling. Louis doesn’t know what’s worse. “How did this happen?” He asks eventually.

“Dad had a later shift at the factory, so we left the house together,” Harry starts telling the story, his head on Louis’ chest, who’s reclined against the back of the couch, not daring to move. “I was going to work and so was he. Jeff was on the corner, a car showed up and they started arguing. This never-” he takes a deep breath, “this never happens so early, but. They started arguing, it turned into a fight and it looked like the guy was going to beat Jeff up, so Mark pointed his gun at him. His comrade reacted and then it was just…” Now he goes back to crying, not as much as before, but still. “It was so  _ stupid _ . Everything was so stupid.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” Harry looks at him. “We started running, but Dad was slower and- he got shot three times. Once in the neck. I got him to the hospital as fast as I could, but.” _ Fuck. _ “Fuck.” He then voices Louis’ thoughts. “I came here as soon as Mom got there, because I couldn’t- I can’t. Louis, I’m so scared.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry.” Louis kisses his temple. “Do you want to call your mother? Let her know you’re okay? Get news on your father?”

“Yes, please.” He sighs.

“Okay.” Louis gives him his phone. “I’m going to be in the other room in case-”

“Stay.” Harry asks way too quickly, so he sinks back on the couch and waits for the boy to dial his mother’s number. 

When she finally picks up, three tries later, the teacher can’t make much of the conversation; the speaking is done mostly by Anne. Harry nods — as if she’d see it — and mumbles questions and a few  _ okays _ . He holds the phone tight against his ear, while he picks on the hole in his jeans with his free hand.

Harry’s hair is greasy and he’s sweating all over; he’s in desperate need of a shower, so Louis decides he’ll wait for him to finish the call and then offer him some clothes and his shower.

_ “What time can I come tomorrow then?”  _ Harry asks her.  _ “I’ll be there. Sorry, Mom. I’m so sorry.”  _ Louis squeezes his forearm trying to say  _ not your fault _ .  _ “I’ll bring you food.”  _ Pause.  _ “Kay. Love you. Bye.” _

He hangs up and stares ahead.

Louis waits.

“They performed surgery on him, but his heart’s in shreds and-” Harry swallows hard. “He needs to make it to the morning. Then they’ll know more.”

“He’ll make it to the morning.”

“We don’t know. There was so much blood…” He looks up.

“I can- imagine.” Louis looks pointedly at Harry’s shirt. There are some deep red spots in there. “Do you- Would you like to shower? I can grab you some clothes.”

“No, I. I should go home, yeah? I need to be at the hospital at nine tomorrow, so I might as well-”

“That’s nonsense.” The teacher all but snorts. “I flew across the country for you in the middle of the day, I’ll be damned if I let you go home like this.”

“Louis, I’m  _ sorry _ , I-”

“H, no.” He interrupts Harry again. “I came because I wanted to, because I got worried sick about you, and because  _ newsflash _ , I give a crap. A lot of craps actually.” Pause. “God, that sounded horrible!”

Harry chuckles weakly for the first time tonight. Louis does too.

“Stay.” Louis reinforces. “If you can stomach anything, I’ll order us some pizza. And I think you deserve a few beers tonight too.”

“First a cigarette, and now you gonna give alcohol to a minor?” He asks, a side smile on his face.

“If it makes you smile only a bit, then yes. Tonight I will.” The older man smiles.

“Pizza and beer it is.”

“But first: a shower.”

Harry already knows his way around Louis’ flat, so he goes straight into the bathroom while Louis goes and fetches him some clothes. The boy’s already in the shower when Louis returns, so he just leaves the clothes on the door handle, and orders the pizza over the phone, already opening a beer for himself.

Fifteen minutes later, Harry looks like a new person. It’s still very clear that he was crying — and it looks as though he cried some more while in the shower —, but he’s clean and his hair is damp, and his skin is just as beautiful as always. Louis hands him dollar bills in case the pizza arrives while he’s showering, shows him where the beer is, and then makes his way into the bathroom.

The cool water washes away the entire day, and Louis can barely believe that when he woke up he knew exactly how his day was going to go. Only ten hours ago he was playing with his siblings and then… Boom. It’s crazy how life changes, one can never truly make plans.

The pressure on his back soothes him, and he allows himself to just feel it for a couple of minutes, only bothering with soap when his fingers get all pruny. He hears the doorbell and figures it must be the pizza, so he closes the tap, turning off the shower, and steps out to dry himself and get dressed in more comfortable clothes.

 

Once he gets to the living room, Harry already has the pizza box opened on the coffee table and an extra beer waiting for Louis.

“I gave him a tip, if that’s alright.” Harry says, a bit uncertain.

“Of course that’s alright.” Louis smiles, walking towards him. “Let’s dig in then.”

There’s a Friends rerun on TV, and they’re eating pizza and drinking beer, and that’s such a cliche scene that Louis would feel like laughing if it wasn’t so nice; Friends is always on TV anyways, and he  _ is  _ always eating pizza and drinking beer in his living room, so there is nothing out of the ordinary here.

Nothing apart from Harry, who’s basically repeating Chandler’s sentences (he’s his favorite, the boy tells Louis) and cursing at every scene Ross appears in, because of how freaking stupid he is towards Rachel at the beginning of the show.

“He gets better, though.” Louis muses, going for the third slice.

“Not enough. I mean, she deserved better; women deserve better.” Harry says without looking at him, too focused on not letting the pepperoni fall on his shirt.

“Your mother raised you right.” The teacher offers.

“Did you think you’d be saying this when you met me?” The boy snorts.

“I  _ hoped _ I would, at some point.”

After that, there’s silence.

They talk more as they continue eating, just amenities really; they talk about the school and some teachers, and even some students. Louis tries to remain impartial, but sometimes Harry makes funny comments that he agrees with, and he can’t help but chuckle over the rim of his beer bottle.

Harry is funny, especially when he isn’t trying to be; but when he does try, he ends up making Louis laugh anyways, because his jokes are just  _ so _ ridiculous – Louis thinks of Niall instantly, and maybe he’ll introduce them sometime.

The past part of their conversation, though, is that  _ Harry _ laughs, and when he does his cheeks get rosier and his eyes get smaller, and Louis sees the pain being forgotten, if only for a couple of minutes. Together, they end up eating the whole pizza. Louis comments he’s gonna get fat and  _ thinks _ Harry says “would still be hot” under his breath, but he isn’t sure.

As it is, he gets up from the couch and cleans up their mess, feeling the entire day on his back. Harry yawns and Louis decides it is time for them to sleep. He accepts Harry’s offer to wash the few dishes they used while he goes inside to grab a sheet, a blanket, and a pillow. When he returns, Harry looks sleepier than ever. 

“I’m gonna open the couch and make you a bed, you should go brush your teeth, left your toothbrush from that day on the counter for ya.” The teacher tells him, placing everything on an armchair in order to free his hands to open the couch.

“You kept it?” There’s wonder in his voice.

“Yes.”

He did. Unconsciously, but he did.

 

Harry thanks him once again when he comes back, and his face, Louis swears to God. He’s like a pirate and an angel decided to have a baby. Everything about him is sort of otherworldly, because Louis can never pinpoint what is it that makes him drawn to the boy.

“I don’t know why you picked me, but I’m glad you did.” Harry says softly, sitting on the couch. “Thank you, Louis.”

“You’re welcome, Hazza.” He ruffles his hair. “Try to get some sleep, yeah? Tomorrow’s a new day.”

The student swallows hard.

“Yeah.”

“Whatever happens, you’ll be fine.” Louis assures him again.

“Okay.”

And, because he can’t help himself, he drops a kiss to the crown of his head, ruffling his hair once again.

“Night, H.”

“G’night.”

 

-

 

All he did was close his eyes, he swears. It took Louis so long to fall asleep – maybe because of how tired he was – that when he feels like he’s finally resting, his phone starts ringing. At first, Louis imagines it could be his mother – after all, he did promise to call and then completely forgot. Then, he imagines it can be Liam, maybe with some news for him.

But no. It’s a strange number that isn’t so strange anymore. He squints his eyes and the screen, sliding his finger over it to pick up the call, and when he says  _ hello _ , his biggest fear is confirmed when Anne’s voice comes on the other line.

_ “Louis?” _ She asks. She sounds horrible.

“Y-yeah,” he affirms.

_ “It’s Anne, Harry’s mom, he said he was with you?” _

Her voice is trembling and Louis hates it, absolutely hates it. He’s so scared to ask her why she’s calling.

“He’s with me.”

_ “Oh thank God,”  _ Anne breaks down. She’s effectively crying now.  _ “I was so scared he- he’d be alone or”  _ a pause to sniffle.  _ “Lord.” _

“He’s all right, he’s asleep now, I’m taking care of him.”

Suddenly, Louis is very awake again.

_ “He’s- I don’t know how he’s going to react, but Des, he—he passed, fifteen minutes ago, he just.”  _ More crying. Lots and lots and lots of crying, Jesus Christ.

The teacher has nothing to do with it, but somehow Des’ death turned out to be one of his worst nightmares. What the hell.

_ “I can’t- I can’t tell him, Mr. Tomlinson, can you- my son—please.” _

“You want me to tell him?” He asks just to be sure, and then  _ please say no, please say no, please say no. _

_ “Yes, he trusts you and if- oh God, if, if there’s anyone who he will listen to, it’s you.” _

“D’you need me to bring him to the hospital? Right now?” He asks, and quickly puts her on speaker, he has no idea what time it is; then, bright on the screen, he finds out it’s barely six a.m., and he wants to scream. This day hasn’t even begun and it’s already kicking him in the butt.

_ “Is that- is that asking a lot? You can also put him on a bus, I’m sure he knows how to get here, I just-” _

“No, course not. I’ll wake him up and try to make him eat something. We’ll be there as soon as we can. Hang tight, Mrs. Styles.”

They exchange a few more hushed words and then Louis is out of bed.

Before he does anything, he washes his face with ice cold water and brushes his hair. Louis puts on a pair of jeans and a loose shirt, puts on his shoes as well and his hair refuses to be tamed, but that’s all right. It isn’t like he’s going to a party, now is it?

Holy shit, Harry’s father is dead. Out of all the things that could be happening right now, this definitely isn’t one that he expected; this is going to set Harry back so much, even emotionally speaking. His life has just started to go somewhere...

Before the teacher wakes him up, he decides he’ll do everything in his power to make sure the boy stays on track.

 

Louis makes coffee and drinks some himself. He checks the clock and it’s six thirty; he makes very little noise, the minimum he can, he swears, but when he looks up from his cup, Harry’s sitting on the couch, looking at him vulnerable and desperate.

“He died, didn’t he?” Is what he asks when Louis approaches him, a mug filled to the brim with coffee in his hands.

“Drink up, Harry. Today’s going to be a long day.” Louis responds, then he sits with Harry while he drinks his coffee.

The boy doesn’t speak once. He drinks the hot coffee in large gulps, and when he finishes up, he places it on the coffee table, quickly going back to his previous position, tucking his head in the crook of Louis’ neck.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do now.”

“We’ll figure it out.” Louis promises.

“We?” His voice is already watery, like he really wants to cry.

Louis simply opens his palm and lets Harry slide his own into it. They entwine their fingers, and the boy lets  _ one  _ tear stream down his cheek as he squeezes Louis’ hand tightly into his.

 

-

 

As soon as they open the door, Liam seems to be getting in from work. He doesn’t look surprised to see Harry at all, he just asks what happened, and, in a monotone voice, the boy replies:

“My father died.”

Liam gulps.

“I’m sorry.”  He then says.

“Thank you.” The boy holds his head high. “We’re heading to the hospital right now.”

“Any news?” Louis dares ask.

The police officer simply shakes his head negatively.

“No. They’re still trying to find the ones who- shot him.” Liam answers his neighbor, turning to his student again right after. “I really am sorry, Harry. We are working on it.”

Harry nods curtly, and Louis rushes them out of the hallway, telling Liam he’ll call later. He probably won’t. But. You know.

 

-

 

Hospitals have always been Louis’ private hell. He grew up in one, and when he was left with neighbors or nannies, it meant his parents were in one – working –, so he avoids them as much as he can, always prefers to call Jay when he needs any medication. Which is why when they make it inside, the teacher’s whole body shivers.

He moves to the front desk and asks about Des, but no one knows a thing. This isn’t the best neighborhood, albeit not as bad as Harry’s, and even though this is a private hospital, it is far from being a good one. For a split second Louis wonders how the hell they are going to pay for Des’ stay here, and later on he finds out the man had insurance, because of his job.

It takes them forty minutes to find Anne. Forty agonizing minutes of waiting, and asking, and waiting, and wondering, and waiting some more. When they’re led to her, Louis waits behind as Harry rushes into his mother’s arm, both breaking down to tears almost instantly and at the same time.

Watching this scene breaks Louis’ heart more than he’d like to admit.

When mother and son let go, Louis approaches them. He hugs Anne briefly, offers her his condolences, and asks if they need some privacy. Anne hesitates for a second, but Harry’s fast to grip his arm and say  _ no, stay _ .

“Baby, this is a family matter.” 

“That’s  _ why _ he stays.” Harry says more firmly.

“I’m sure Mr. Tomlinson has other things to do, Harry. He already brought you here,” his mother bargains.

“You’re the closest thing that I have to a friend.” The boy looks directly at Louis. “And other than my Mom, you’re the only person I trust now.”

“With all due respect, Mrs. Styles, I am on vacation from the school too; I was in Los Angeles and I flew back when Harry called. I’m not only here for him, but because of him. I’m here for whatever the both of you need, if that’s alright.” He offers a small smile, respecting the situation. Anne cries and nods, says  _ thank you _ one more time, and then takes Harry’s hand to take him to see his father one last time, while Louis picks up his phone and calls the cemetery.

It’s eight in the morning, and he’s already wishing he were asleep.

 

Des’ sister appears later. Harry still hasn’t left his father’s side, and Louis hasn’t dared to go in there, but both Anne and Tania, Des’ sister, managed to eat something, so he counts it as a victory.

The funeral will be held at their house, because they can’t afford a church or a venue, nor would they want to, Louis believes. This isn’t a party, this is the worst day of their lives so far. Point is, the funeral will happen tomorrow, and then he’ll be buried the next day.

The specifics of the casket and flowers are handled by Tania, and Louis sits in the hallway while she’s speaking to someone through his cellphone, wondering when he can grab something to eat himself. It’s almost lunchtime now, and he’s dying to eat, but not before Harry gets out of there.

“Louis...” Anne walks towards him. “I’m sure Harry can handle this without you, you’ve already done so much.” She says, still sniffling.

“Mrs. Styles-”

“Anne, please.”

“Anne. This really isn’t a problem, I didn’t say all of that because we were in front of Harry; I really am here for him, for you.”

“I don’t know how to thank you for... For everything you’ve done for my son. It’s so much more one could’ve asked. Des was so proud of him.” She joins her hands over her mouth as she speaks, and Louis pulls her into his body. He was taught that hugs could fix the world. Well, maybe they won’t fix her completely, but he’s hoping this one will at least help. “When you showed up at our door that first time, after you left we- we were so sad and so worried. Des was worried we hadn’t raised a good son.”

“You did, you did.” Louis whispers. “I told Harry only yesterday how well you raised him. He’s a good person; we’re all good people when someone gives us a chance to be.”

“I don’t know if I believe that, but I’m glad you do, and you gave him a chance.”

“Harry’s amazing, Anne. Des did have a lot to be proud of. Especially in the end.” He tells her.

“I know. Just- we didn’t expect it’d be the end. He even- he... He was trying so hard to-” she never finishes, because Harry comes out of the room.

The rosiness from last night is long gone once again; instead, his face is pale and the circles under his eyes are darker, and his hair’s up in a bun, completely out of his face. Harry looks awful, unhealthy, and tired, and Louis lets go of Anne to go hug him instead.

“Hey, you.” He says over Harry’s shoulder. The boy’s a little taller than him, but he makes himself small to fit into Louis’ embrace. “Good?” Louis asks dumbly.

“No.” Harry mumbles. 

“You will be, darling.” Anne rubs his back.

 

Eventually, Louis manages to drag him to a café across from the hospital and make him down more than liquids. In the afternoon, when everything’s taken care of, Louis goes back home and leaves Harry with his mom and aunt. He’ll see him tomorrow.

 

-

 

Louis is so tired when he enters his apartment that the first thing he does is take off his shoes and then throw his body on the couch, on “Harry’s bed”, too tired to make it to his own.

He sleeps for three hours, and wakes up with his phone ringing. His mother is desperate for news and Louis fills her in the best he can, his head still pounding; Jay suggests he takes an aspirin and that’s what he does while talking to her. Thankfully, no one judges him in his house. He speaks to them all, and they tell him the same thing: follow your heart, take care of Harry.

At the end of the call, he promises them to check in more often this week, and then he proceeds to try and be semi normal, watching TV for only a few more minutes before he falls asleep again and only wakes up early again the next day.

He has various texts from Harry, mostly nonsense, but he replies to some of them, and says he’ll be there by lunchtime. 

Reminding to call his friends, Louis also lets Zayn know of what happened – but only after texting Oli and Calvin in their group-chat –, and the math teacher reacts the worst way possible: absolutely “not believing” that Louis left  _ California _ for “this boy”. He does say he’s sorry, and to pass on his condolences to Harry, but mostly he judges Louis a bit for everything he’s doing.

Liam, on the other hand, drives Louis to Harry’s house – scared of what might happen if he goes alone. The police officer doesn’t enter the place, he doesn’t even leave the car, just tells Louis to call him if he needs anything later.

Because this isn’t a TV show where life is perfect, Liam also tells Louis that the police haven’t found anything about who might’ve shot Des, and that they probably will never know, but at this point, Louis doesn’t think neither Harry or Anne care much. They just need to get through this.

 

-

 

The house is a lot fuller than Louis expected. For all Harry says about having no friends and whatnot, the same didn’t seem to be true for Des. Apparently everyone who used to work with him is there, and even a few neighbors show up. Louis sees Jeff in a corner, and he also sees Harry throwing him out of the house. 

For a second there he thinks about stopping the boy, too scared that this is going to bite him in the ass later, but now is not the moment to reprimand him. If anything, now’s the moment to let him lash out – and it’s better if he does it on the right person.

He hands the pie he brought to Tania, and the woman thanks him, taking it to the table. Louis hangs in a quiet corner until Harry makes his way to him, after shaking many hands around, and nodding robotically.

“Thanks for coming.”

“Of course.” Louis nods. “I don’t know what to say now.”

“You don’t have to say anything.”

“I’m truly sorry, Harry.” 

“I know, Louis.” Harry says seriously, a crease between his brows. “Out of everyone who talked to me today, I know you’re one of the few who really means it.”

Louis nods and is about to say something when a man walks up to them.

“Harry?” He asks. Harry nods. “I’m Greg, used to work with your Dad.”

“And let me guess, you’re very sorry too?” The boy asks monotonously.

“Uh, yes, but what I came to say is... Congratulations.” Greg says. Both Harry and Louis frown now. “These past few weeks, your father couldn’t stop talking about you. He was so proud. You were making your father so proud. I met you when you were three years old, Harry, and as one of your father’s best friends, I just have to thank you for being the son that man deserved you to be.” He smiles through tears. Harry’s almost crying too. “I  _ am _ sorry he’s gone. But I’m sure he did go with a feeling of mission accomplished.” Greg squeezes Harry’s shoulder. “You and your mom were his greatest accomplishment, Kid.” He assures the boy. “Cheers to him. Cheers to you.” Then, Greg walks away.

Louis holds Harry’s forearm, and the boy whispers a very broken  _ get me out of here _ in Louis’ ear, and the teacher just moves them to the back of the house, where they stay until everyone has gone, and only Anne and Tania are in the house.

 

Des’ sister decides to stay over again, to bury her brother and then offer them support. Harry doesn’t seem to be able to stay in the house, so Louis offers his couch once again. Tonight, they both fall asleep in the living room – Louis on the couch and Harry on the carpet, hugging a pillow. It’s the saddest scene for any outsider, how they just fall into sleep after talking about life and how pointless it is once you die. But, for them, it’s the beginning of something. For Harry, the beginning of  _ healing.  _ For Louis, it’s the beginning of everything, really.

  
  



	8. SCARED TO BE LONELY

 

**_"Do we need somebody just to feel we’re all right?"_ **

****

 

There’s a sense of normalcy during the days that follow Des’ funeral. After everything is said and done, after the casket is buried, after Anne cries and Harry holds her, after Harry cries and Louis holds him, life starts to seem like it’s still there again. Tania stays for one more week, which results in Harry staying at Louis’ for one more week.

Today is Sunday, and June ends in the middle of the week. The day starts earlier and ends later, the sun shines brighter, the air conditioner stays on for longer. Louis runs, mostly to clear his head. And when he gets home, he finds his student slash friend making his bed (or, well, couch), watching a cartoon on TV.

“Morning, have you eaten?” Louis asks him, closing the door as soon as he comes inside.

“Not really hungry.” Harry says, folding the last sheet. “Good run?”

“There’s no such thing as a _good_ run,” Louis snorts, going straight to the fridge to get some milk. “Healthy way to start the day, though. You should try it.”

“Maybe tomorrow.” He shrugs and throws himself into the cushions one more time.

 _Maybe tomorrow_ has been Harry’s answer to a lot of things, but Louis can’t blame him; the teacher has no idea how he would act if _he_ was the one who’d just lost his father, can’t even imagine it happening, so he lets the student have some more time.

To be perfectly honest, Louis is still proud of how he’s handling it. Maybe Harry isn’t extremely interested in reading or watching movies, maybe he doesn’t eat three course meals everyday, but he’s handling it his own way, and, bless him, his own way doesn’t involve getting wasted or drugged, or running away in the middle of the night.

Harry wakes up, makes his bed, lazes around for a bit, showers, asks if Louis wants to eat and helps him make lunch. Yesterday, he even sat through a full episode of Designated Survivor with Louis, which is something to be very proud of, since lately _Louis_ has been having trouble watching all forty-two minutes of the show.

 

“Speaking of tomorrow…” Louis starts the conversation again, sitting by his side. “You going back to work?”

“Yeah.” Harry agrees. “And home.” He tells Louis.

“Your aunt went home?”

“No, Mom said she’s staying to help solve some insurance things, ‘m not sure. There’s a lawyer coming ‘round.” He comments. “But I’ve overstayed my welcome.”

“And swallowed a dictionary.” Louis mocks. Harry simply chuckles. “You’re not bothering me, you know?”

“Don’t you wanna go back to Cali, though? Spend more time with your parents? You said you missed them.”

Louis said this ages ago, when Harry was throwing a fit about having to live with ‘two insufferable adults’. He’s shocked the student remembers it.

“Honestly? I think I miss the kids more than my parents.”

“Kids?” Harry’s eyes widen.

“Yeah. I have a nineteen year old sister and almost four year old siblings, they’re twins.”

“Oh my God!” He brings both hands to his mouth. “Sorry, ‘m kinda crazy about kids.”

“You?” Louis laughs. “Almighty troublemaker Harry Styles? Leather jacket, motorcycle driver, car-wrecking bad boy Styles has a soft spot for kids?” He pokes him.

“Shut up. As if I could afford a jacket and a motorcycle.” The boy rolls his eyes. “I’m obsessed with babies. And kids. I’ve always wanted siblings, but, you know,” he shrugs. “Mom said they barely had money to raise me let alone one more.”

“Yeah…” Louis sighs, because he doesn’t know what to say. “Kids are awesome.”

“You never thought of working with them?” Harry asks.

“A lot. All through college I thought I’d end up teaching elementary school.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.” The boy states; he says it as a well-thought sentence. It sparks something inside Louis.

“I am too.” The teacher smiles easily. “Point is, I do miss my babies, and I might visit them again for a weekend, but I’m not planning on spending the rest of my vacation in Cali. So if you’re not tired of my couch, you can stay for as long as you want.”

“I can’t.” Harry whispers. “I love it here,” he looks at Louis, his eyes are honest. “And if you let me, I’ll visit you lots. Maybe spend a night or two. But I can’t let you take care of me and… And let my Mom to fend for herself.”

“That’s… Noble.”

“Hardly,” the eighteen year old snorts. “That’s decent. Plus, my house is shit but it’s closer to the café.”

“You don’t need to give me reasons to want to go to your own house, H.” Louis chuckles. “You should be with your mother. And I’m only a phone call away.”

“Kay. Thanks.” He looks down. “Thank you.”

“Stop thanking me, it’s alright.” Louis rolls his eyes and shoves him on the shoulders. “I’mma shower. Then we’re gonna go out for lunch, I’m feeling like McDonalds.”

Harry smiles and says _yes, sir_. And the world starts to turn on its axis again.

 

-

 

Louis gives him a key right before he leaves on Monday morning.

Harry’s using Des’ old cellphone, and by old Louis means _really_ old; it’s a flip phone, and it’s only good for calling or texting, sometimes not even that, since its battery dies every three hours. And Louis wants Harry to know he can come whenever he wants — no warning, no knocking.

 _If you need a place to stay, just come in. Even if I’m not here._ Harry has disbelief painted all across his face, and he doesn’t hesitate this time: he hugs Louis as strongly as he can, and thanks him over and over again, voice only above a whisper. All through his life, Louis has heard what simply _caring_ can do to a person, but it’s not until he realizes how _different_ Harry is, that he becomes a witness to how much kindness can change the world.

 

-

 

So, he calls Nick.

It’s a Thursday night and Liam is on a date with a coworker. Zayn and Perrie decided to make it to California when he isn’t there (and still managed to meet Louis’ parents), and Niall is working, like fucking always. So, Louis calls Nick.

They meet at a restaurant close to the Marina Bay, and even take a walk afterwards, feeding the ducks. It’s all very romantic, except for the lack of romance in it. They talk a lot. Nick fills Louis in what’s going on with his life and what a bitch this season’s editorial is going to be to assemble, and Louis listens to him while they stroll around.

When Nick asks about how his vacation’s going, Louis tells him parts of it, not wanting to go into last week’s hurricane.

They walk back to Louis’ car at the restaurant parking lot at around nine p.m., and when Louis asks him if he wants to go to his place for a few drinks, Nick nods, seeming only half-interested.

“You don’t have to, you know. I can drop you home.” He tells him.

“I’m just trying to figure you out,” Nick squints his eyes.

“What’s there to figure out?”

“You seem to like me.” The other man states. “But you also seem uninterested.” He raises an eyebrow. “And then you invite me back for _drinks_.”

“Drinks _can_ just be drinks,” Louis says, turning the car on. “I like you, you’re right. But not romantically.”

“Ouch.”

“You’re good company, Nick. And I like hanging out with you. Sleeping with you isn’t bad either.” He tells him.

“Yet you’re not even close to falling in love with me, otherwise we wouldn’t be having this conversation while you’re driving.”

Louis sighs.

“That a problem?” He asks.

“No.” Nick smiles. “But I’m looking for a serious relationship, Louis. ‘M not getting any younger.”

“I’m not running away from a relationship, you know?” Louis glances at him. “But I’m also not looking to getting into one just for the sake of it.”

“Ouch again.” He chuckles. Louis does to.

He stops at the intersection.

“So. Am I taking you to your place or are we getting drinks at mine?”

“Drinks at yours.” Nick decides. “But just drinks.” He raises an eyebrow.

“All right,” Louis laughs and refrains from rolling his eyes.

 

In hindsight, maybe giving Harry a key wasn’t the best idea. Louis enters his apartment to find the boy in his kitchen, eating pot noodles and drinking coke. It’s not the first time this scene unfolds in front of his eyes, but it is the first one where Louis is caught by surprise. Harry hasn’t used his key in the past two weeks, but somehow tonight, of all nights, he decided it’d be a good idea.

Now, Louis really doesn’t know which part is funnier or more ridiculous. He knows he enters his place with Nick making a joke behind him, he knows he throws his shoes in the hallway and thinks _maybe Harry’s forgotten his All Stars here_ when he sees the pair right there on his carpet, he knows Harry’s in the middle of putting the noodles in his mouth when he sees Louis enter the kitchen.

His eyes sparkle, Louis is sure, but his expression soon turns into confusion when he sees a taller man behind the teacher, who stops in his tracks as soon as he sees Harry too.

“Uh. Hi?” Harry says, dropping the fork inside the plastic cup.

“Hello, Harold, what a nice surprise…” Louis says, only half ironically. If Harry didn’t show up tonight, he’d have to go to the café tomorrow anyways. His timing just sucks.

“You didn’t know he was here?” Nick frowns.

“I have a key.”

“He has a key.”

Both student and teacher say at the same time.

“My my, haven’t the student-teacher relationships changed these days?…” Nick muses as he toes his shoes off in Louis’ hallway. “You’re Harry, right?”

If Harry is surprised that the man knows who he is, he doesn’t show it.

“I am.” He says. “I don’t know who you are.”

Louis is _definitely_ surprised by his rudeness. He frowns.

“I’m Nick. Louis’ date.”

 _Of course_ , Louis mentally rolls his eyes.

“Oh. I’ll leave you to it then…”

“No!” Louis exclaims all too quickly. “You don’t have to go.”

“I just meant-” Harry pauses. “I’ll finish eating outside…” He says, and grabs his things. “Have a nice… Date.”

Harry goes to the veranda, exactly where Louis was going to tell him to go. He closes the glass door behind him, and Nick just stands there, perplexed.

Louis doesn’t say much more. He grabs a bottle of wine and two glasses, and tells Nick to follow him to the living room. He sits with his back to Harry, mostly not to stare at him, but that leaves Nick with a full view to the balcony, where the boy is sat.

The teacher glances at the TV and sees Designated Survivor Season one on, and he chuckles, thinking that Harry has finally given in and decided to watch it correctly.

“So. Your student has a key to your apartment. You failed to mention that.” Nick comments, sipping from his glass.

“I didn’t know I _had_ to mention that.”

“Passive-aggressive much?” His date snorts.

“Nick… C’mon.” He almost begs. “He’s got a hellish life. I don’t feel like disclosing it all to you. It’s hard but it’s his.”

“So, why are you making it yours?” Nick frowns.

“I’m not. I’m taking care of him.”

“He’s not a baby.”

“He still needs someone.”

“He’s eighteen, right?” He asks. Louis nods. “He’s hot. And basically an adult.” The teacher simply eyes him. “What, he is.” He smirks. “But you know that…” Nick squints his eyes at him again.

“Do not squint your eyes at me.” Louis complains and drinks half of his glass.

“Alright, Louis.” The man finishes up his glass all at once. “I’m gonna go and please don’t pretend you want me to stay.”

“I… Did. Earlier.”

“But now you’ve got Harry here.” Nick smiles. “You know… I tease you, but I’m serious: be careful not to make his life yours. I’ve been there, done that. Got the scars to prove.”

“With a student?”

“Intern. Same shit at the end of the day.” He tells Louis. “Call me whenever, yeah?”

“We could go somewhere on the weekend.” Louis offers, getting up to follow him to the front door.

“As a date? Or to just hang out?” Nick clarifies.

“If you’re only interested in a serious, exclusive relationship, then it’s better if it’s to just hang out.” He’s nothing but honest. “You’re a dick, but also nice, friend material.”

“Keep the compliments coming, you asshole.” The other man rolls his eyes, then bends down to put on his shoes. Louis waits for him and opens the door, looking down at Nick with a bittersweet smile on his face.

He wanted to feel more, he really did. But he doesn’t. Part of him wants him to go already so he can go fetch Harry from the balcony. He doesn’t like that the boy is out there separated from the rest of the house because he feels he is a bother.

“Thanks for being honest.” Nick says before he leaves.

“That’s not something you should thank me for.” He sighs, still with a smile.

“It is, because it’s rare nowadays.” The man replies. “Call me to hang out on the weekend.”

“I will.” Louis hugs him.

Nick kisses him on the cheek and squeezes his forearm. Louis watches him enter the elevator before he closes the door, and then walks towards the balcony, opening the door and welcoming the summer breeze.

 

“Hey,” he calls Harry, who’s staring at the street. Food and beverage finished and forgotten. “Y’alright?”

“Yes.” Harry responds.

“Okay.” The teacher swallows. “Any particular reason you’re here tonight?”

The boy seems to ponder. He looks at Louis, then straight ahead again, and snorts.

“Believe it or not, I actually missed you.” He looks down.

“‘M glad you stopped by,” Louis says. Harry snorts again. “I’m serious.” He squeezes the boy’s shoulder, then decides to light up a cigarette. “But I worry you’re neglecting your friends to come here-”

“Please don’t say I need to hang out with people my age next.” Harry begs. “And gimme a cigarette.”

“No.”

“Excuse me?” The outrage in his eyes almost makes Louis laugh, but he holds it.

“I gave you once cigarette once after you had the shit beat out of you. I’m not letting you smoke again.”

“ _Louis_.” Harry almost whines.

“And you should hang out with people your age.”

“God, I’m gonna go.” He starts getting up.

“Harry, sit down, stop throwing a fit.” Louis pulls him down. “Get a fucking cigarette for all I care,” he hands him one.

“I hate people my age. Always have.” Harry comments, grabbing the cigarette and lighting it up while Louis holds the fire. “And the ones I could stand don’t talk to me anymore. Jeff’s orders, I guess.”

“Why?” The question is only above a whisper.

“Because I’m a traitor, Louis.” He states. “No one gets out of that gang, and the only reason I did was because you _pulled_ me out, and they respect teachers enough not to have you fucking killed.” Harry tells him. Louis doesn’t dare speak while the boy takes a drag. “I was scared shitless when I got a job that they’d go after you, but they said that as long as I kept my head down, they’d let me live.” He snorts. “Jeff has known me since I was twelve, and he said he’d _let me live_ with such disgust. Mark was the one who explained why no one talks to me anymore. If they do, they get killed. Any of them, really.”

“Holy shit.”

“So don’t give me a speech about needing to hang out with people my age.”

“There’s still people from school.” He offers.

“I came because I missed _you_ , and I wanted to see _you_. Now: is that okay or are you done hanging out with a kid?” Harry asks, he looks almost… Hurt.

“You’re not a kid.” He states again. It seems like all Louis does is assure Harry he doesn’t think of him as a baby, and assure other people he doesn’t see Harry as a full man either. The latter is getting harder and harder; for all Niall or Liam seem convinced of Louis’ intentions, he himself is starting to doubt it right now.

“Right.”

For the second time, they smoke together in silence.

Tonight isn’t cold, and the street isn’t that empty. Because schools and universities are on vacation, there are people passing by at all times, every day. The weekends are still busier, but this Thursday they get to people watch at almost eleven p.m., the only noise up above being their breaths.

When Louis is finishing his second cigarette, Harry speaks again.

“So. Your date.” The boy starts.

“Hm?”

“You’re not straight.”

“Clearly.”

“Are you gay?” He asks directly.

“Yes.” Louis nods. “Didn’t you know that already?” He frowns.

“Why have you never told me?” Harry asks, avoiding his question.

“If I were straight, I wouldn’t have had to say anything at all.” Louis shrugs.

“Was it hard? Coming out to your parents?” He asks again. “I mean. _Are_ you out to your parents?”

“Course I am,” the teacher chuckles. “I’m from San Francisco, H. Been out for forever now. Was it hard, for you?”

“No. I mean- they barely acknowledged it. Like I said, they had worst things to worry about.”

“Being gay isn’t a bad thing, Harry.”

“You know what I meant.” He rolls his eyes.

“Yeah.” Louis sighs. “But now you know how proud your dad was of you. And your mother is too.”

“Thanks to you.” The student voices.

“Thanks to _you_ , you asshole.” He shoves Harry who chuckles a bit.

“I’m sorry my being here ruined your date.” Harry says.

“You didn’t.” Louis tells him. “Seriously.” Again, because he thinks Harry needs the reassurance. “We’re not even dating anymore as of tonight.”

“Why not?”

“He wants me to have feelings for him.” A pause. “Well. Not really, that’s not what he said.” He corrects himself. “He wants a relationship at any cost.”

“And you don’t?” Harry asks.

“Not at any cost, no.” Louis shakes his head negatively. He sighs. “Anyways. Wanna watch something?”

“I was watching DS.”

“I noticed.”

“We can watch something else…”

“I don’t mind rewatching with you.” He gets up, his back cracks.

“I’d make a joke about you being old, but my back’s killing me too…” Harry says, taking the plastic cup and the soda can to take to the kitchen. “I’m sorry I ate without you being here, by the way.”

“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t say that.” Louis rolls his eyes. “So, are we feeling popcorn or ice cream? I could go for either. Or both.” He asks.

“Ice cream.” The student decides. “You can afford extra pounds, but I can’t. So, as of tomorrow, I’m going running with you in the mornings.”

“Oh yes, because you’re _so_ fat, Styles. Not fit at all.” The last sentence sort of escapes his mouth. Louis surprises himself.

“You were the one who invited me to go running.”

“Because it’s _healthy_.”

“Yeah. Whatever.” Harry rolls his eyes and grabs two spoons, following Louis _and_ the ice cream to the living room. “By the way, good to know you think I’m fit.”

“You should be polite and pretend _I_ didn’t say that.” He doesn’t look at him when he says it, and grabs the remote control. “Have you told your mom you’re staying over?”

“I wasn’t planning to stay.”

“Oh.”

Harry rolls his eyes.

“Hand me your phone, lemme call her.”

Louis gives it to him and Harry calls his mother. They watch Netflix until two in the morning. At seven, they’re up running. At eleven, Harry heads to work. At two p.m., Louis is bored and sort of misses having him there. He phones Lottie, tells her to come to the city — things are better now. The rest of his day is spent cleaning the apartment, and at night he goes to Niall’s bar with Liam.

All in all, the first few days of July have turned out just fine.

 

-

 

Charlotte arrives on a rainy day. When Louis gets to the airport, thick droplets of water hit the glass and he turns the windshield wipers on immediately, cursing the weather for being such a bad host today.

He texts her where he is, and five minutes later she gets out and walks towards the car. Louis is quick to help her with her bags, and they only hug once they’re inside the car, away from the rain.

“I can’t believe this shit!” Lottie complains.

“It’ll go away eventually.” He assures her. “I was gonna take you straight to Millennium Park, but I think our best option now is a museum and then lunch. What d’you think?” He asks.

“Museum’s good. ‘M not too hungry right now.”

“How was the flight?”

“Long.” She answers and he snorts. “What are your plans for us this weekend?”

“Harry has the weekend off so I thought—”

“Eleven minutes!” She screams suddenly. “It took eleven minutes for you to mention him!”

“Shut up.” He rolls his eyes, then bites his bottom lip. He really needs to tone it down. “So, museum?”

“Museum.” Lottie answers, and then: “Okay, fine, what did you think Harry and us should do?” She asks.

“Just hang out, really. Thought we could go for lunch on Saturday, then head to the Skydeck if the weather improves… It’s gorgeous up there.” Louis tells her.

When he got here and was feeling particularly bored, Louis decided to tourist around, and that has to be his favorite place in the city. In his opinion, New York doesn’t hold a candle to the amazingness of this building — or this city. The Skydeck offers incredible views spanning up to four states, and Louis can only imagine both Lottie’s _and_ Harry’s reactions when they step on “The Ledge”, which is a glass balcony extending four feet outside the tower, 103 floors up in the sky.

Louis tells her all about it and his sister is genuinely excited. Charlotte shares with him how much she still wants to make it to New York, and he refrains from rolling his eyes, promising that they can go there on a holiday — but not during vacation time. As he speaks, he can’t believe Chicago has infected him that much.

As a Californian, he’s never been New York’s biggest fan, but after living in Chicago for seven months, he can vouch for this place: it has everything New York does — the buildings, the parks, the food —, but it isn’t overly crowded; in Chicago, you have more space to walk around, the streets and sidewalks are larger, because there are less people. In a way, he’s glad that this is where he wound up, even if it’s too far from home.

He and Lottie talk all day long. When they finally get home, they’re extremely exhausted, and Louis checks the time on his phone only to realize it’s already seven p.m., which means Harry’s off the clock and will be here sometime soon, since he said he’d come to meet Lottie.

“What are we having for dinner?” His sister asks.

“You seriously hungry? I feel like all we’ve done is eat all day.” He throws himself on the couch, resting his neck against a pillow.

“We walked and talked all day. After lunch we only had Belgium waffles; which, by the way, I wanna have again, forever.” She throws herself right by his side after towing off her shoes. “Can we go there tomorrow?”

“Yes.” Louis rolls his eyes and turns on the TV.

He took Lottie to this small, cozy French place for dessert, and she fell in love with the food. It’s one of his favorites in the city, too.

They’re fifteen minutes into a Disney movie when he hears a key moving in the lock and he warns Lottie that Harry has arrived. His sister doesn’t seem surprised that the boy has a key to his place, and it’s probably because their mom has already spilled the beans to her. This family, he swears to God.

 

Harry isn’t in his work clothes. Maybe that’s why he’s getting here a bit later than usual. To be fair, he’s still in black jeans and dirty white All Stars, but he’s wearing a simple white shirt too, with a rose printed on its pocket, and his hair’s still damp. He looks tired, but clean. He looks a little happy too. That’s good.

“Evening,” he comments, entering the house.

“You’re Harry!” Charlotte jumps from the couch.

“You’re Lottie!” The boy smiles. Louis smiles too, involuntarily.

They say “hi!” at the same time, then move to hug each other. Harry kisses her cheek and then they separate, looking at one another like they’ve been friends for long who have just reencountered. That does things to Louis.

“Hello, there,” Louis waves. “How was work?”

“Good, guess what?” Harry smiles big. “I’m behind the counter now.”

“What- that’s awesome!”

“Yeah, apparently I’m really good with people?” The boy fake frowns and lets his backpack fall onto one of Louis’ armchairs.

“Don’t know where they got that idea…” Louis muses.

“Me neither.” He shrugs.

“Why? You’re so nice…” Lottie comments.

“Now,” Harry snorts. “I’m proper horrible when I want to be.” He acknowledges.

“Not ‘nymore.” The teacher mumbles and Harry offers him a sweet smile. “Anyways. We were planning on having dinner out tonight. You up for it?” He asks.

“Uh, sure? Where?”

“Niall’s.”

“Oh, yeah. He seems nice.”

Harry and Niall met briefly the other day, when the Texan stopped by to give Louis left over food from the bar on a day when Louis was really lazy to cook. Harry looked at him in bewilderment, not believing he didn’t cook his own food. Louis complained about being mocked, but by then the pair had already ganged up against him. Ever since, Niall’s been bugging Louis to bring Harry around. Guess tonight’s the night!

 

Lottie finds strength in her bones to shower and get ready, and after she exits the bathroom, Louis does the same. He gets dressed fairly quickly, opting for grey jeans and a deep blue button down, sleeves folded up to his elbows, and just the right amount of product in his hair. He wonders if he’ll ever stop wearing different variations of vans when he steps into the living room to find his teenage sister and his teenage student talking and laughing hard.

They seem to be getting on so well that Louis’ heart skips a few beats. He notices Charlotte is telling a story about when they were little and Louis was scared of the nuns who lived nearby, so one day he decided to spook them away by pretending he was the devil. His sister rarely gets up and acts out when telling a story, but she does that now and Harry lets out his high pitched, nearly deafening laugh, bending forwards with how much he’s laughing.

“I see you enjoy making fun of me…” Louis makes his presence noticeable. “D’you still want me to pay for dinner or are you gonna continue mocking your brother?” He asks Lottie.

“Mock you? Me? Never.”

“Sarcasm doesn’t suit you well.” He says unimpressed.

“I disagree.” Harry shrugs, then winks at Louis’ sister.

“Traitor.” Louis mumbles and starts walking out, grabbing his keys on the way to the hallway.

“Jealousy, on the other hand, suits you splendidly.” Lottie says, walking past him.

“Don’t know what you mean.”

“Sure you don’t,” the girl snorts. Harry looks at them questioningly, but Louis brushes it off.

 

-

 

Niall is in love with the Tomlinsons; well, the Tomlinsons and Harry. That’s the only explanation as to why since the second they enter the bar, the man steps out of the bar and comes to sit with them. He was super excited to meet Lottie and to properly hang out with Harry, so when he starts talking, he just doesn’t stop.

Louis thinks this is the first night he has a proper dinner here; he doesn’t go for chicken wings or any other appetizer; he really asks for a full meal, and both his sister and Harry do the same, following his lead. Because he has two minors with him, he opts for not drinking alcohol, and when Harry leans over the table to speak in his ear about _having a beer at home_ , Louis pretends his body doesn’t stiffen and shivers all over.

It’s his voice, Louis has noticed. Harry has one of those voices that if you aren’t looking straight at him, you forget just how young he is, just how innocent he looks, and it can do _things_ to you. It’s not the first time he’s realizing this, but as the boy speaks to his sister and his friend, but keeps looking at him with a smile on his face and knocking their knees under the table, all these feelings get heightened, and Louis finds himself in desperate need of _air_.

 

He excuses himself and exits the bar through the back, lighting up a cigarette right away. He’s almost done when Harry shows up, looking for him. There goes his master plan to clear his head.

“Are we boring you?” The boy asks, hands in his pockets, hair in the wind.

“Course not, just needed a smoke.”

“Your sister’s trying to persuade Niall to let us have a shot.”

“Over my dead body.” He snorts.

“It won’t happen, Liam just entered the bar.” Harry smiles. “He thought Lottie was my date.” He chuckles.

“That’s just- wrong.”

“In so many ways…” The boy muses. “I’m gonna go inside then.”

Louis trashes the cigarette.

“I’ll go with you.” Harry stops in his tracks and lets Louis walk past him.

When they’re just about to reach their table, Harry pulls him back by the hem of his shirt, and his mouth is right against Louis’ ear again.

“Thanks for bringing me out.”

Louis swallows dry.

“You’re welcome.”

 

-

 

All the way home, Louis tries to pretend he didn’t notice his nineteen year old sister flirting with twenty five year old Niall, but when he notices her screen lighting up with a message from the boy, he has to take ten breaths before asking her about it. Charlotte, in all her glory, says that she thought he was very cute, she’s single, so _why not?_

“It’s not like we’re gonna go on more than one date anyways, with what us living thousands of miles away from each other. It’s harmless.” She shrugs.

“I love Niall, but he’s too old.”

“He’s six months older than you.” The girl rolls her eyes.

“And that creeps me out. You’re nineteen.” He huffs out.

“She’s an adult, Louis.” Harry gives his unhelpful opinion. “Stop acting like he’s some ancient dude who’s deflowering people. Do you see _yourself_ like that?”

“He does!” Lottie says annoyed before Louis can get a word out.

“Unbelievable,” Harry chuckles. “I’ve hooked up with people your age. Older.” He shrugs. “Lots must have too. She’s a consenting adult.”

“Why _thank you_ , Harry. At least someone here is smart enough and doesn’t live in the dark ages.” Charlotte looks back and fist bumps Harry.

“I don’t live in a bright pink world in which I think you’re still a virgin, Charlotte. You did me the favor of fucking _telling_ me when you were sixteen.” He rolls his eyes. “But still. Guys my age are dirty, no matter how nice they seem to be. Can’t even imagine the straight ones.” Louis almost shivers.

“Can’t speak for the straight ones. But guys are dirty, period, doesn’t matter the age,” Harry says. “I mean- I don’t know how old _you_ were when you started having sex, Louis, but ever since _I_ did, I’ve never met someone who wasn’t a pig.”

“You’ve been dating the wrong people then.”

“Never said I _dated_ them.” Harry points out. “And I know.”

Louis takes a deep breath. He wants to ask him _when_ he started to have sex, how many people he’s slept with, if he’s sleeping with anyone right now, with _whom_ … But he doesn’t. Instead, he swallows hard one more time, rolls his eyes, and asks his sister:

“Did Ni ask you out?”

“For brunch tomorrow,” she responds. “Am I allowed to go, Mr. Tomlinson?”

Harry bursts out laughing.

“Very funny.” Louis says. “You do whatever you want, Lots. You _are_ a grown woman after all.”

Everyone goes quiet after that. Louis is probably being a jerk, but he tries to excuse himself, thinking that what he’s doing is nothing more than being a brother.

 

Later that night, when Harry’s already made his bed on the couch and Louis is finishing up Lottie’s air mattress bed in his bedroom, his sister comes in after his night routine and lets him know she can say _no_ to Niall, if it’ll bother him so much. Louis feels like a tit.

“Don’t do that. Niall’s a great lad. Go out with him, have some fun.” Louis says, turning off the lights and getting into bed.

“Oh, you’ve come to your senses.” She muses and he chuckles.

“I’m your older brother.”

“I get that, Lou. It’s okay that you want to protect me; but it’s not okay when you’re being super hypocritical about it.” He hears her shifting on the mattress, turning to his side.

He shifts too, looks down on her. It’s dark, but he can make out her features.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that, if you can be falling for your eighteen year old student, then your friend can ask your sister out too. It’s the same age difference; sex shouldn’t matter.”

“Lottie, I’m not-”

“It’s okay. He’s falling for you too.”

 

For the first time, Louis doesn’t argue. Instead, he wonders why everyone says the same fucking thing, and when sleep takes him over, he’s thankful that his mind stops working.

  



	9. THIS TOWN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all have a nice week :)

 

**_"Over and over the only truth: everything comes back to you."_ **

****

 

As the end of their vacation is approaching, something shifts inside Louis.

He’s gotten so used to having Harry here as nothing more than a friend, that it makes him wonder how their dynamic is going to be once they’re back at the school. It’s a Wednesday, and the boy has the day off from work, so they decide to explore the city on foot.

Although they’ve been running together every other morning (only when Harry’s shifts are in the afternoon), the boy still complains about walking too much, and Louis mocks him, he does, but once they’re at the Bean and have been walking for almost three hours, he must agree that maybe walking the whole time wasn’t the most intelligent idea they’ve ever had.

Harry asks Louis if he can borrow his phone and starts taking all kinds of pictures. He’s good, Louis notices. He asks Harry about it, and the boy tells him he’s always liked taking pictures; ever since he was a kid, whenever he could get his hands on a camera, he would, but he never actually had one, and now he’s saving for a new phone. His dad’s is on the verge of dying.

They sit on a bench and people watch for about twenty minutes, and then decide to head for Starbucks. 

“D’you feel like you’re betraying your coffee shop?” Louis asks him, nudging his arm as they go in.

“Not really,” Harry chuckles. 

They place their orders and wait by the counter until they get them, then they find a place to sit in a corner where they can see the street.

“It’s like we’re two old ladies, always watching people.” Harry comments, making the teacher chuckle. “Can’t believe this is the last week we’ll get to do this.” He whispers, but Louis hears it.

“Why is it  _ the last _ week?” Louis questions.

“School starts on Monday.”

“And…?”

“And… I don’t know.”

“What, you think I won’t talk to you anymore?” He snorts.  _ Fat chance. _

“Not like this.” The boy shrugs.

“Please elaborate.” Louis even turns his whole body to him, people watching be damned.

“It took you a while, but you’re finally talking to me as a person, not a baby.” He points out. “’S gonna be an adjustment when Mr. Tomlinson shows up again to  _ handle _ me instead of talk to me.”

“That’s- just- offensive.” The teacher is  _ outraged _ . 

“It’s not, it’s just the truth.” He shrugs.

“Okay, if you expect me to not care about your school life then yeah, you’re delusional. I was just about to tell you to let the coffee shop know you won’t be working mornings anymore come next week. But if you think me caring ‘bout your school life means me not caring ‘bout your personal life, then you don’t know me at all.” Louis hopes the boy notices he  _ is _ actually offended.

But more than that, he’s just really… Surprised. With Harry, sure, but with himself too. He hadn’t really thought about how things would change once they went back to school. Sure they won’t be able to act all friendly and tactile as they have been in the past few weeks, mainly because people are evil and would assume all kinds of horrible things, but that’s okay for Louis to deal with.

What makes him stop and think is the fact that he  _ is _ indeed concerned about their friendship. They won’t be seeing each other so often outside those walls and will Harry come visit him often? Will they still hang out on weekends and eat pizza? Will Louis still be scared of going to jail for letting an eighteen year old drink beer and smoke a cigarette every now and then?

He doesn’t know.

Maybe Harry does have a point. Except the boy has little to worry about, Louis thinks. 

“I’ve already talked to people at work. I’m not some rebel anymore, okay? This is my senior year, I wanna do it right.” Harry looks down, avoiding Louis’ questioning gaze. “I told you, you let me dream. Now I want to go to college.”

“Hazz!”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. With Dad gone I can’t stop working, so I won’t be able to have support classes in the afternoon, but- I won’t miss classes. And I won’t… I won’t miss questions on purpose anymore.” He promises.

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

A breath of silence.

“Louis, I don’t wanna stop seeing you outside school.” Harry says all too quickly.

Louis snaps his head towards him again.

“You still have a key to my apartment.” Louis tells him. “You’re still welcome anytime.”

“And you won’t treat me like a baby?”

“Worrying about you doesn’t equal treating you like a baby.” He warns.

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

 

-

 

On the last weekend before they have to go back to work, Louis suggests they hang out. He invites Zayn and Perrie over, and makes sure Niall clears his schedule to be there. Liam will only arrive at ten p.m., but that’s fine.

Louis invites Harry. He’s not sure he is going to show up, because he said someone who works with him was having a birthday party and he’d been invited, but the boy told him he’d try and do both. It’s okay, though. Louis just wants to have a little bit of fun before going back to work.

He and Niall spend the late afternoon preparing snacks and stocking his fridge, and around eight Zayn and Perrie arrive, bearing dessert and wine. The music is soft and just a background to their conversation. Zayn mainly makes fun of Louis after hearing the Lottie-Niall story, and the teacher refrains from replying, simply flipping him the bird.

Perrie nags Louis about Nick.

“You guys looked like you’d be perfect together!” She basically whines while opening a bottle of wine.

Niall and Zayn decided to play video game. Niall’s going to kick Zayn’s butt, but Louis won’t say that till the game’s about to end.

“Yeah, well…” He shrugs and walks back to the living room.

Truth is, after hanging out as friends a couple of times, they kind of gave up on everything.

Nick is nice, but that was never up for discussion; Louis actually liked him a lot, but only when they were trying to date. Maybe the kissing and the fucking were distracting him. As it is, they just didn’t find many interests in common to take their attempt of friendship forwards. 

If Louis doesn’t force romantic relationships, he sure as hell doesn’t force friendships either.  _ It is what it is _ , he thinks.

Zayn scores at FIFA and he  _ can’t believe it _ . 

“Got my good luck charm with me.” He winks. Perrie kisses him as a reply. It’s cute. It really is.

After that, though, Niall does massacre him. 

_ YES! _

 

Louis and Niall play against each other and it’s a never-ending match, because they’re both too good.

“This is how it’s done, Malik.” Louis shows him his tongue then makes Cristiano Ronaldo score for his team. “YAS!”

“You’re an asshole. Bet that if we went to a football field you wouldn’t be able to make  _ one _ play. You don’t even know that shit.” He accuses.

“Because it’s shit!” Niall comes for his defense before he can say anything, and thank God, otherwise next thing that would come out of Louis’ mouth would be  _ I would know some things, actually, because Harry’s in love with football and taught me a bunch of things in the last couple of months.  _

But that’d just be weird, so, you know:  _ thank you, Nialler. _

 

Around ten p.m., there’s a knock on the door.

“Must be Liam.” Louis says from the couch, too lazy to get up.

“I’ll open it.” The math teacher rolls his eyes at Louis’ laziness and gets up, ready to welcome Liam.

He does find Liam. But he also finds Harry by his side, and the confused look on Zayn’s face is the confused look on everyone else’s too.

“I promise I haven’t been arrested.” Harry tries to joke. Louis laughs from the couch, Niall too. Perrie doesn’t understand. Malik raises both eyebrows as both men enter the apartment.

“He hasn’t, we just met in the elevator…” Liam smiles, at ease, shaking Zayn’s hand and then proceeding to talk with the rest.

“You came!” Louis looks at Harry, smiles at him too.

“The party was kind of boring.” He shrugs. “Hi, I’m Harry,” the boy turns to Perrie, introducing himself.

“Boy, have I heard about you!” She moves to shake his hand, but he gives her a hug and it warms Louis’ heart to watch.

“I’d say  _ only good things, I hope _ , but then you’d have to lie to me.” Harry laughs.

“Or I’d tell you the truth and let you know just how much of a headache you’ve given Zayn and Louis specifically…” She replies.

“I like her,” Harry tells Louis.

“She’s my wife, what’s not to like?” Zayn says smugly. “Liam, want a beer?”

“Yes, fucking please.” Liam groans.

“Styles?” Zayn turns to him.

“He’s eighteen, fuck’s sake.” Liam complains.

“Yeah, Zayn, he’s eighteen. Who gives beer to an eighteen year old in America?” The teacher fakes outrage. The police officer huffs (he’s always huffing around Louis), Zayn laughs.

“I’m happy with grape juice, thanks.” The student tells him.

(It doesn’t register with Louis that Harry  _ knows _ there’s grape juice in the fridge because they went shopping together the other day.)

Harry sits by Niall’s side and asks him who’s winning. Niall really likes Liam, he does, Zayn too. But when Harry arrives, the Texan man gives him all his attention. It’s like he can’t wait for Louis to lose just so he can play against the student. Harry isn’t the biggest soccer fan; he doesn’t love video games either, but when money is involved, he decides to go along with it.

“One question: how are you gonna pay if you lose?” Zayn asks.

“He has a job now,” Louis offers proudly. 

“Also, I’m not gonna lose.” He arches one eyebrow, basically defying everyone in the room.

Louis won’t admit it’s hot.

 

The game takes forever. Louis and Zayn go outside for a smoke, come back and they’re still playing. The teacher catches up with Liam, offers him snacks, and they finish two beers together — and the game’s still going. Perrie complains they’re all boring and they need more sweets, and, guess what? They’re still going.

Louis goes after her in the kitchen, because he could go for chocolate brownie with vanilla ice cream too. 

“Now I see why you and Nick didn’t work.” Perrie comments, putting the ice cream in the freezer again.

“Because of Harry?” He asks.

“Yeah.”

“You’re not the first one to say that.”  _ Or the fifth.  _

“Why would that be?”

“Honestly?” He looks at her. “I don’t know. I don’t think I’m doing anything different from what I’d do for someone I care about,” Louis shrugs. “But maybe I’m not seeing things right.” He massages his temples.

“It’s a possibility.” The woman says. “Time will tell.” She says, and then takes a bite from her brownie. “Fuck me this is so good.” 

“Gimme one.” He asks. “I need some sugar in me.”

 

The rest of the night goes with screaming: Harry wins, Niall loses, and then the Texan man decides he wants to get trashed. Liam promises he can crash on his couch, so that’s when Niall and Zayn decide to drink more than ever, once Perrie assures her husband that yes, she is fit to drive.

Perrie doesn’t drink much; she’s just like Louis. They have their fun, they drink a bit — no one in their right mind denies a cold beer —, but they’re fine stopping when they have to. Louis could swear Zayn was like that too, but his wife says that “that’s because you didn’t see him at our wedding”.

“Zayn got  _ drunk _ at your wedding?” Liam asks, very interested in the story.

“Yes,” she laughs loudly. “He fell face first on our cake too, was splendid.”

“Oh, babe, c’mon.” The math teacher rests his forehead on her temple, then kisses her cheek.

If there’s one thing Louis misses about being in a relationship is the public displays of affection, or not even public, not even displays… Just… The affection itself. Talking to someone and kissing them; holding hands; running his fingers through someone’s hair or having someone run their fingers through his. Louis misses being hugged, cuddled. 

Shit, he needs to get up. He excuses himself saying he’ll go for another smoke. This time Liam accompanies him, but just for a few seconds — the police officer starts coughing instantly and then goes back inside. Louis watches the empty street now and checks the time. It’s almost midnight, and he wishes he were up for more partying, but truth is he’s kind of sleepy.

He smokes two cigarettes and goes back inside. There’s some conversation going on, but it’s a bit strained. Harry asks a question and Zayn answers - but that’s it. Zayn looks at Louis accusingly. Louis avoids his gaze.

 

When Perrie yawns, Zayn suggests that they go. If Harry weren’t here, he’d offer his friends the spare bedroom, but truth be told, Louis would rather having Harry here, on his couch (which the boy prefers) — and knowing he’ll wake up to the smell of breakfast — than this married couple who is so incredible that sometimes make him sad. Fuck, maybe Louis did drink more than he should have too.

 

“G’night, bro. See you on Monday.” Louis hugs Zayn at the door.

“Night, LouLou.” He slurs. Zayn has never called him  _ LouLou _ in his life. He hopes he never does it again.

Louis hugs Perrie too, and next thing he knows Liam is dragging Niall out of the apartment and into his own. He tells Louis he’ll come back in a bit to help and organize everything, but Louis says he doesn’t have to. It’s all good.

When he goes back inside, he sees Harry collecting bottles and makes him stop immediately.

“You shouldn’t be cleaning someone else’s mess.” Louis says, taking the bottles from him.

“That what Zayn told you when you started helping me?” He jokes.

It’s not a good joke. Louis tells him so. And then:

“Are you all right?” He asks.

“Yes.”

“Cause that was a bit prick-y.” The teacher points out.

“I know, ‘m sorry. Mr. Malik just reminded me that this” he gestures between them “isn’t as real as it seems to be.”

“We’ve already had this conversation.” Louis reminds him. He throws some things in the trash, but then gives up cleaning. “I think you’re overthinking this.” He goes back to the living room, throws himself in the couch by Harry’s side.

“Maybe.” Harry shrugs. “I’ve always- felt comfortable. Here. With Calvin and Oli. Your sister. Even Niall. But Mr. Malik freaked me out.”

“Zayn freaks me out too, all the time, it’s okay,” he chuckles and ruffles Harry’s hair.

The boy only half smiles.

“I mean. Him being here made me feel like I didn’t belong, and it was weird.”

“And how do you feel now?” Louis asks.

“Good.”

“Good. Because Harry, this is  _ my _ apartment, not Zayn’s.” He carefully places a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it lightly and making Harry look at him. “I always want you here, no matter who else comes. You are always to feel comfortable; and you are always to feel like you belong. Classes or no classes, okay?”

“You mean that?” Harry asks, big green eyes hopefully staring at Louis. The teacher can simply nod. “Truth is, the birthday party was pretty nice. I just really wanted to be here.” He whispers the last sentence.

“And here you are.”

“Here I am.”

 

-

 

Things change considerably once they’re back at school, but it isn’t necessarily a bad change. When Louis has the first semester meeting, rumors are already going around about Harry, and his personal life, and how involved he is with Louis. So the teacher decides that he isn’t going to stress over what teenagers are saying, and decides that the best thing to do is to talk to James about everything.

Harry doesn’t like that idea. In fact, he throws a very teenagey tantrum when Louis tells him that he’ll talk to the principal about everything. “And tell him what, exactly? What is everything?” Harry asks him in the empty classroom, and the only reason his voice is low, Louis suspects, is because he knows Zayn is waiting outside.

Louis doesn’t really know what everything is. He knows he doesn’t want to break his promise to the boy; he doesn’t want their relationship to take a drastic turn just because they’re back in this environment. As it is, he tells him he truth. And he asks Zayn to please go without him, he still has stuff to do.

When he sits to talk to James, right after lunch, it’s like the principal already knows what he’s there for.

“Are we talking about Harry Styles then?” Corden asks.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Louis, no calling me  _ Sir. _ ” The man all but pleads, with his characteristic fun voice.

“James. Uh. Yes, I wanna talk about Harry.”

“Okay, let’s have at it.” He sits back in his chair and opens his arms invitingly. Louis is suddenly nervous. James notices. “What’s going on, Louis?” The man is more serious now.

“When I got here, everyone warned me about Harry. Zayn mostly.  _ He’s a troublemaker, he doesn’t care about anything, stay away _ . I heard that a lot. But like- how much trouble can an eighteen year old cause, right?” Louis chuckles. “I had no idea when I went to his place and talked to his parents. There were drug dealers and armed gangsters watching me and, trust me, I know just how lucky I was.

Harry was pissed. He trashed my car, did you know?” At that, the principal widens his eyes. “I screamed at him, we had a fight, for a second there I really felt like I’d crossed a line and he crossed many. But he changed, James. Slowly, he did.”

“His grades tell me that.” James agrees.

“Yeah, and so does his behavior. Harry was such a cliché. He just really needed someone to care about him enough and show him how smart he actually is.” The teacher swallows his own saliva, looks down, and goes on. “He got into that MIT course. He got a job. He’s not involved with bad things anymore.”

“Louis, I know all of that. What you did with this boy is remarkable, really.” James tells him. “I understand his father died.” He states.

“Yes. During the summer. That’s what I wanted to talk about.”

“His father.”

“No.” Louis shakes his head. “The fact that I was in Los Angeles, Harry called, and I got on the first plane to come here and help him.” He says it all at once.

“O-kay.” James even changes his position. “That I didn’t know.”

“We have a relationship outside school. A  _ friendship _ !” He reinforces. “I helped him through everything, him and his mother. He spent some time at my place, and we bonded.” Louis explains. “Harry’s become important to me. And I’m telling you this because I know how things can get. I’m young and gay and new at school. Harry’s eighteen, and gorgeous. And people  _ talk _ . And I don’t want anyone to think this is a dirty little secret, because it isn’t.

I’m very aware of my position in this school. We are friends. We really are. I’m going to continue caring about him inside and outside these walls. I promised that boy I wouldn’t leave him, and I won’t. But I don’t want to lose my job because of a misunderstanding either.”

A few seconds pass. Louis holds his breath.

“I see.” James nods. “Well, Louis, so I guess we’ve gone through it all, yeah? As long as you’re not hooking up with a student-”

“No, I’m  _ not _ . I promise you.”

“There’s nothing wrong with this. That boy needs someone more than ever now, and if that someone is you, who not only inspires him but also makes him a better student, then so be it. Thank you for coming to me and telling me all this. This proves how serious you are about this job, and about Harry too. It’s all I need to know.”

“Thank you, James.”

“And Louis…?”

“Yeah?”

“If the nature of your relationship changes, I need to know.”

“To fire me,” Louis jokes.

“Or transfer him.” James warns. “That’ll be all, then.” The principal says.

“Thank you again, Sir.”

Louis gets up and exits the room with a feeling of relief, but also of confusion. He won’t revisit it until much later in the year.

 

-

 

Harry is basically a star student. Not that Louis doubted his abilities or the fact that he said he’d be even more focused this school year, but already in October, when they have the first round of quizzes — that are basically mock tests —, he already shows what he really came for.

He doesn’t get anything but B pluses and A minuses, and when Louis congratulates him on it, the boy brushes it off and says that he’s going for only A’s, and he really hopes he gets them until the end of school.

It’s crazy that this is his senior year, Harry says.

“I keep wondering what it’d be like if you’d gotten here when I was in my freshman year. Maybe I wouldn’t have failed junior high.” He voices.

“Eh. It is what it is.” Louis says, collecting his things from his desk. “How was geography?”

Louis knows the subject haunts him.

“Almost got a B minus, but wound up with a B plus.” A smile spreads on his face.

“Congrats, H.” The teacher tells him. “Knew you could do it.” He smiles too.

“Yeah…” Harry brings a hand up to his own hair, scratching it on the nape. “What are you doing this weekend, Lou?” He asks him.

It’s the first time ever Harry calls him  _ Lou _ . It isn’t a special moment, it isn’t even a  _ moment _ , but it does something to Louis nonetheless.

“Nothing that I know of. I think Liam’s celebrating his birthday a little late because his family only managed to get here this week, but apart from that… Why?”

“Oh no, nothing, ’s fine.”

“D’you need anything? Did you want to come over?” He asks.

“No, uh… Mom’s having this dinner thing-y at our place?” The boy sounds uncertain. “She got a bonus at work and- it’s been a few months since Dad died. We just- we thought it’d be nice to cook and have people over. She said I could invite whoever I wanted. I think only two of her friends are coming.”

“Is it Friday or Saturday?” 

“We don’t know exactly. When is Liam’s thing?”

“Friday.”

“So, ours is on Saturday. Brilliant!” Harry smiles.

“Do I have to bring anything?”

“Yourself.”

“I’m gonna call your mom and ask her…” Louis rolls his eyes.

“She’ll say the same thing.” The student snorts.

“Need a ride to work?”

“If you got nothing else to do, yes…”

Louis stops at the teachers’ room to get  the rest of his things and asks Harry to wait for him by the car. There are still a few people around, and he ends up staying there a couple of minutes, talking about the Halloween party with the other teachers.

Louis never really participated in school events being a teacher. But this year he decided he’d do it more, especially for the senior class. They are completely against Winter Proms, argue that it’s a nightmare to get dressed, especially here in Chicago. Simon even budges and tells Louis that once, they had to cancel prom because of the snow. 

So, they’re having a Halloween party. Louis decided to chaperone it, alongside some others. It’ll obviously be at the end of the month, and costumes are mandatory for  _ everybody _ . The only thing he’s worried about is whether he’ll find an appropriate costume or not - maybe Lottie can help him, even from afar. 

 

When Louis is getting to the parking lot, he sees someone talking to Harry, and it’s not someone Louis has ever seen around school, but it sure as hell isn’t a friend of the boy’s either. Judging by Harry’s face, that man talking to him is everything but his friend.

Harry looks small. And Harry very rarely looks small.

“What’s going on here?” Louis asks as he approaches.

“Nothing.” The student whispers.

“Who’s that, fairy Harry? That your sugar daddy?” 

Harry’s eyes bug out, and-

“What the fuck, who the hell are you?” The teacher quickly asks the man, touching him on the shoulder so he’ll step back from Harry.

“Here’s my card, Styles.” The man completely ignores Louis and shoves a business card to his chest. “I hope to hear from you until next week, for yours and your lovely mom’s sake.” He smirks wickedly and walks away.

Harry’s pale. Way whiter than he usually is.

“Hazz.” Louis shakes. “C’mon, get in there.”

He drags Harry by the arm and puts him inside the vehicle, shutting the door on the boy’s side and then going to his, getting in the car as well.

“Who the fuck is that?” Harry passes him a card. “Charles Vegan? What a name,” he snorts. “It says  _ accountant _ here. Harry…”

“He’s a fucking loan shark.” The boy says angrily. 

“What did you-”

“Dad. Not me, him.” He explains. “Dad borrowed money to pay a few mortgage installments. Never paid back so I-” the boy takes a deep breath. “We gotta pay back by next week or else.”

“Or else?”

“Did you fucking see he threatened me and my mom?” Harry turns to him angrily.

“Hey.” Louis raises his voice a bit. “Is your mom aware of it?”

“No idea.”

“Fuck. D’you know how much this is?”

“20K.” 

“Shit.”

“Yes.” Harry seems like he’s on the verge of breaking down. His voice is watery and he presses both hands firmly on his eyes. “Just drive me to work, Louis.”

Not knowing what else to do, Louis just drives him to work.

 

-

 

So maybe this is where Louis crosses the first real line. You may say he’s crossed it before, but this is where he realizes it without anyone to tell him so. 

Twenty thousand is a lot of money, and even though it’s money Louis  _ has _ in his bank account — since he’s been saving for a long ass time now —, it isn’t money he has to  _ spare _ . But he knows someone who does, and when he finally musters up the courage to call him, right after he talks to Anne privately, he isn’t faced with judgement, but with  _ worry _ instead. 

_ “Are you sure you wanna do this, Louis?” _

“Yes, Dad.” He responds. “I’ll pay you back in time. There’s just- none now, really.”

_ “I’ll transfer the money tomorrow.”  _ His father sighs on the other line.

“Is this the right thing?” Louis’ voice is small when he asks.

_ “Don’t know, Son.” _

“Can you not tell Mom for a while?” This is big. Louis never hides anything from Johanna. “Till it’s solved, at least.”

_ “Louis, it’s a joint bank account; she’ll know about it the second I make the transfer. And keeping secrets from your mother isn’t something that I do.”  _ Shit.  _ “She’ll understand.” _

“She’ll say I’m doing this because I’m in love with him.” He groans, knocking his head against the wall.

_ “Maybe you just love him.” _ If someone can  _ shrug _ with their voice, Mark’s that someone.  _ “Maybe it’s not passion, just- you just care deeply.” _

Now, Louis and Mark never had a heart to heart. Yes, his father has had some pretty serious conversations with him along the years; he’s taught Louis a lot about many things, and he’s never denied he is a romantic. But whilst Jay needed to be aware of Louis’ love life 100% of the time, Mark’s only concern was whether Louis was happy.

Growing up, that meant Louis confided more in his mom and less in his dad, but that never meant Mark wasn’t there for him; they just didn’t have lots of love-life talks; which is why when Mark goes for it, it kind of surprises Louis. But not in a bad way.

“He’s important to me.” Louis responds, not ready to go deeper than that.  _ “ _ He’s in a lot of trouble, and he’s important. I promised him we were friends.”

_ “And that’s what friends do for each other, Louis. Your situation might be different, but- Son, you’d do it for Calvin in a heartbeat. If any of your childhood or college friends were in this situation, I’d be getting this call regardless, wouldn’t I?”  _ Mark asks him.

“Of course!”

_ “So don’t beat yourself up because this situation is a bit more complicated. Whatever your mother thinks might go on between you and that boy has nothing to do with this specifically.” _

“I don’t know.”

_ “You don’t need to right now.” _ Mark says convincingly. 

“I don’t wanna do the wrong thing.” He confesses.

_ “Whatever the wrong thing might be in your head, this isn’t it.” _ His dad assures him.

“I love you a lot. Thank you.”

_ “Love you too, Lou. You’re one hell of a man.”  _ He tells him.  _ “Money will be in your account tomorrow.” _

“Thanks, again. I’ll pay you back, in installments, but I will,” he chuckles.

_ “Don’t worry about it.” _

“Like hell I won’t,” Louis laughs. “Thanks, Dad.  _ Thank you _ .”

_ “You’re welcome. Expect a call from your mother when I tell her _ .”

“Yeah, yeah…” He muses.

They catch up a bit after that, but when it’s late enough in Chicago, Louis decides to turn in. Between going to Liam’s birthday party, Harry’s dinner thingy, and preparing classes for the week, Louis found himself with little sleep and a lot of headache. 

Thankfully, he managed to solve everything. And even though he knows Harry will be pissed off, he’d rather get into a fight with the boy than watch something bad happen to him because he just stood on the sideline and watched everything burn down.

Louis will be damned if something happens to Harry on his watch. 

 

_ - _

 

Jay’s only complaint is that Louis went to Mark instead of her, but it only takes two minutes for them to solve this, since Louis’ father probably spent a long time talking her out of giving him a lecture. Anne calls him to thank him, and she promises Louis they’ll work a payment method — which he refuses. But Harry. 

Well.

Louis knows Harry finds out because one day he gets to school and doesn’t look in the face. At first the teacher imagines Harry’s not feeling too well, or he’s worried about a seminar he needs to present in history class. But then, the next day, when Harry has class  _ with _ Louis and still doesn’t dignify himself to say  _ good morning _ , Louis understands what’s going on.

And he tries. He really does try to ignore it, but to spend a whole class the way they do (avoiding gazes), and having to deal with a Harry he barely recognizes anymore (much like the one from January, full of snarky remarks and misplaced smirks) turns out to be too much for him to deal with, so when everyone’s going home, he asks Harry to stay back.

Harry simply stares at him and says  _ not now _ . And tells him he’ll stop by later.

 

Later turns out to be when Louis has just finished dinner and is sprawled on the couch catching up with Dynasty — which he’s been hooked on for a month now thanks to the boy who barges into his apartment with a killer look on his face.

“YOU HAD NO FUCKING RIGHT.” Harry points a finger straight to Louis’ face.

Calmly, the teacher pauses the TV and gets up from the couch.

“For what it’s worth, I asked your mom to let me be the one to tell you.”

“ _ She _ wasn’t the one to tell me. And you should’ve talked to me  _ before _ , not communicate something like that afterwards, that’s- low.” The words come out faster than Louis has ever heard him speak.

“You wouldn’t have let me do this if I’d told you beforehand.” He explains tiredly.

“OF COURSE I WOULDN’T HAVE.” Harry screams again. “THAT WAS TWENTY THOUSAND DOLLARS, LOUIS. THAT’S A FUCKING LOT.”

“Yes, I’m aware twenty thousand dollars is a lot of money.” He crosses his arm. “But what did you think I’d do, Harry? Honestly? Stand by and watch you lose another parent? Or worse, lose  _ you _ ?” 

“I’m not worth 20K, Louis.” The boy snorts.

“No, you’re worth a lot more.” Louis tells him decisively. 

“You’re out of your mind!” Harry accuses. “Fuck, I wanna punch you, I swear.”

“Harry, FOR GOD’S SAKE!” He screams unintentionally. “IS IT SO FUCKING HARD TO BELIEVE THAT I CARE ABOUT YOU?”

“YES!” Harry responds quickly. “YES, IT FUCKING IS.” He walks closer. “What the hell do I have to offer? How come  _ you _ think  _ I  _ am worth something? God, this is so embarrassing.” He all but whines.

“What  _ are _ you talking about?” Louis grabs his arm, forces Harry to stand still in front of him. “You’re smart, and funny, and kind. You can  _ cook _ . You’re hardworking. And-”

“And yet somehow you’re all of that and still manages to be the guy who saved my sorry ass more than once.  _ You’re  _ incredible. Incredibly annoying too, but overall incredible. I’m embarrassed. And disbelieving.” Harry confesses; his voice gets lower and lower the more he speaks.

“Come here, Harold.” Louis pulls him in for a hug. Harry fits his head between Louis’ shoulder and his head, and the teacher turns a bit so he’s speaking directly into his hair, hand massaging his scalp loosely. “I really do care about you.”

“I’m an idiot, but I really care about you too. A fucking lot, Lou.” He whispers.

“You’re right. You are an idiot.” The teacher says lightly, still holding. They both laugh in each other’s arms, and Louis can feel the vibrations all over. “‘M sorry I didn’t tell you before.” He says eventually.

“You’re forgiven.” Harry breathes out, somehow sighing even more into Louis’ body. “‘M sorry I acted out at school. That was very-”

“Teenagey? Troublemaker Harry? Yeah, that’s all right…” He chuckles.

Harry’s arms tighten around him.

“Don’t turn what you did for me into that. Don’t make my reaction to it a bad student kinda thing.” He pleads. “I felt ashamed and sort of betrayed. Most of all, I felt like a kid. And I keep feeling helpless, knowing that you do all kinds of things for me and I-” Louis holds him a bit more, buries his fingers in Harry’s hair. “I got nothing to offer.”

“That’s a lie.” Louis steps back, looks at him. “You didn’t let me finish my list.” He points out. “Like I said, you  _ are _ an idiot. And you’re smart, and funny, and kind. You can cook. You’re hardworking. And- and you light up a room just by being in it.”

“Other people don’t think so.” The boy mumbles.

“ _ I  _ think so. Does that matter?” He asks.

“That matters the most.” Harry tells him without looking him in the eyes, a light blush on his cheeks.

Louis doesn’t comment on it, afraid that he’s looking exactly the same.

  
  


 


	10. THE EDGE OF TONIGHT

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, the 2018 presidential election in Brazil sort of sucked the life out of me.  
> But, here it is.  
> Think you'll like this one :)

 

**_"You keep me safe, you keep me sane, you keep me honest. You keep me alive."_ **

 

 

Zayn says a big ass  _ no _ when Louis asks him to go costume shopping with him. It’s sad, really, because Perrie got super excited about the Halloween party at school, but Zayn has a  _ no Halloween celebration _ policy every year — something to do with a childhood trauma —, so because of that, the couple opt out of the party.

Louis complains immensely because that doesn’t mean Zayn couldn’t go out with him to look for something nice to wear, at which point Liam’s done with the drama and offers to go with Louis one of these days.

His friendship with Liam is evolving, Louis thinks. The police officer is nice and calm and a good contrast to Louis’ unorganized figure. If he stops and thinks about it, he and Liam had literally everything to hate each other, but somehow they don’t. They get to together to eat garbage at least once a week at one of their apartments, and they often manage to go down to Niall’s bar and have drinks.

Liam is always paying attention to Louis’ love life, especially now that he’s got a new girlfriend. It started when he complained about the last one and all Louis did was listen but not share anything about his own life. Once he came out to him, the policeman hugged him as if Louis needed the reassurance that  _ being gay is okay _ , and bombarded him with questions about boyfriends and hook-ups.

When he finally saw him with Nick, Louis swears he saw the  _ double date _ light being turned on in his mind, but since that didn’t last, Liam never touched the subject again. Now though, they’re walking in the mall and Liam just can’t shut up about how much the salesman was staring at him, and Louis should totally go back there and give him his number.

“I’m good, Payno, thanks.” Louis pats his back. “Ugh, why is finding a costume so fucking hard?”

“It’s not when you know what you wanna dress up as…” Liam throws shade at him.

“I need something cool  _ and _ school friendly; I’ll know when I find it.” He decides.

“Bet Tom would help you find it,” his friend winks. Tom is the salesman.

“Shut  _ up _ ,” Louis groans. And then: “I do need to get laid though.” He sighs.

“Then go out. Have you seen yourself? As a straight man, I gotta say, you’re ridiculously attractive, Louis.”

“Why do you have to say that as a  _ straight man _ ?” He chuckles.

“Because I’m straight?” Liam sort of frowns.

“I think it’s funny how y’all are always reaffirming your sexualities. Like, when you gotta compliment other dudes it’s always as  _ straight men _ instead of just  _ men _ . As if something so small like complimenting a friend would define your sexuality,” he snorts. “Sorry. Got carried away.”

“No, that’s- alright. I’d never noticed.”

“You usually don’t.” The teacher winks.

“Me? Oh. Us? The straights?” Liam checks and Louis nods. “You’re right. I don’t notice things much, you know? But the other day the guys were talking about it at the precinct and I realized for the first time how toxic that environment is for LGBT guys.”

“And girls.” Louis says. 

“Yeah, but women suffer just by being women, don’t they?”

“They do.” He agrees. “But LGBT women suffer more. And let’s not even get started on colors and races here…” 

“So what? There’s a prejudice scale based on color and sexuality and that’s how we know who suffers more than who? That shit sucks.” Liam complains. 

“It shouldn’t be like that, but it kinda is.”

“But  _ why _ ?”

“Because people are horribly stupid.” He offers. “I don’t know, Liam. Most people don’t even know they’re prejudiced, because they think prejudice, sexism, stuff like that all comes down to killing whoever’s different or beating the shit outta them.” Louis explains. “People don’t understand that sometimes one fucking comment can be filled with misconceptions that will hurt someone.”

“You been through that a lot?” Liam asks. 

“Not nearly as much as some people have. But yeah, of course.” He nods. “Growing up, I was very fucking flamboyant. In college I still was, but that was fine. My family was always very supportive and so were all of my friends. But somehow adulthood got the best of me, so I changed. It was too hard to hear what a  _ fairy _ I was all the time. 

I toned it down, yeah, but I still consider myself to be flamboyant, with the hand gestures and hair flips or whatever,” he chuckles, “but the other day this woman was flirting with me and I told her I was into guys, and she was like  _ but you don’t look gay at all _ .”

“And that’s bad?”

“That doesn’t equal hitting me. But it’s still annoying to  _ one _ , have to come out all the time because everyone assumes everyone’s straight, and  _ two,  _ having to hear I don’t look gay enough. Like there’s a formula.”

“I think you’re gay enough, pal.” The policeman hugs him sideways.

“You’re ridiculous.” Louis rolls his eyes.

“Have I ever said something like that?”

“You might have. I don’t remember. Sometimes it’s best to just let it go, you know? But I try to educate people as much as I can, when they’re willing to listen.” The teacher smiles.

“Correct me away, Lou.”

“Thanks, dude.” He pats his shoulder once more. 

“Has Harry given you trouble because of that? At the beginning? Or he’s not aware of your sexuality…?”  Liam asks out of curiosity.

“He’s gay too, so no.” 

“But he-” Liam widens his eyes. “Wait, I can’t-” He frowns, stops and thinks.

“You were going to say the exact same example I gave you, right?” Louis snorts. “That Harry doesn’t look gay.” His friend smiles apologetically. “I’ll let it slide because  _ I  _ was fucking surprised when he told me too.”

“Oh, wow.”

“Yeah. We only actively talked about it once. Harry’s… Harry’s okay.” He tells himself more than he tells Liam.

“He got a boyfriend?”

What.

“Not that I know.”

“Hm.”

Louis sees a brownish overcoat and stops on his tracks, the idea for the  _ perfect _ costume coming to his mind as soon as he looks at it. Of course, he’ll need to rent a suit, and maybe trim his hair a bit — which he’s in desperate need of anyways —, but… He’ll look  _ so cool _ . Nerdy, yeah, but cool.

He drags Liam to a toy store right after he spends a ridiculous amount of money on that coat, having made up his mind to find a sonic screwdriver and be the perfect  _ Tenth _ Doctor. David Tennant who?

 

Liam argues that no one watches Doctor Who. Louis fights with him, saying that just because  _ he _ doesn’t watch it, it doesn’t mean the rest of the world is going to be that uncultured.

Truth be told, Doctor Who isn’t the most famous show in the United States, not nearly as big as it is in its home country (England), however, most people have access to cable and the internet, so if they don’t understand his costume, Louis will simply tell them to look it up and maybe he’ll get more people to watch it.

After he sets his mind on it and buys the also ridiculously expensive sonic screwdriver, he proceeds to find a place where he can rent a somewhat cheap suit, and texts Harry if the student can please lend him his pair of All Stars. The student says that yes, he can, and Louis has his costume solved.

 

-

 

Liam nags him a lot about going out, and when Louis finally decides to do so, this is the answer he gets:

“Rita is coming over tonight, we’re having a quiet night in. I’m even cooking!” He apologizes, a pan in hand.

“Hate you.”

“Call Niall. He’s off tonight.” Liam tells him.

 

So, call Niall Louis does. And Niall is off because he’s sick. The man can’t stop sneezing on the phone, some kind cold that fucks him up every autumn and forces him to stay home in order not to pass his sickness onto his clients’ food and drinks. However, when Louis tells him why he was calling, the Texan pretends he isn’t sick at all, and basically begs Louis to go out, claiming that he doesn’t want to infect other people, but he isn’t  _ dying _ , he can go out and have some fun.

Louis makes him promise he won’t drink or hook up with anyone, and Niall guarantees him neither will happen — specially the second one, because, in honor of Louis “finally deciding to have sex” (Niall’s words), they’re going to a gay club tonight.

 

-

 

Now, Louis isn’t much for this scene. He was, at some point in life, but not anymore.

When he was younger, Louis considered himself to be the life of the party. Everyone wanted to hang out with him, because he was  _ always _ out and about; ever since he turned eighteen, he started to find a way to get into parties without invitations and more often than not persuaded the bouncer to not even look at his ID.

In college, he was pretty much the same, with even bigger endurance for alcohol and all nighters. But at this point, he doesn’t believe he can dance until last call anymore. He gets in a cab with Nial,l making the bar owner promise him that they’ll be home by two a.m. maximum.

“The night’s still young, Tommo. Relax.”

“The night is. I’m not.” He rests his head against the seat.

“Not with that attitude, you aren’t.” Niall mumbles and punches his arm. “C’mon, sunshine, cheer up. Tonight’s gonna be—Achoo,” he sneezes in the middle of the sentence. “Lit. Tonight’s gonna be lit!” And then he sneezes again.

“God bless you, Niall Horan.” Louis says.

 

-

 

_ God in the sky, please do bless Niall Horan _ is the first thing Louis thinks upon entering  _ Temporary Fix _ , the gay club his friend takes him to. The place is amazing, Britney Spears is playing, and Louis is already on cloud nine when someone offers him a cocktail instead of having to go to the bar.

Niall tells him that because the fee to get inside is so expensive, this is an  _ open bar _ party, meaning Louis can drink as much as he wants without spending a cent.

 

They find a corner to just hang by themselves, watching people walk by. Niall follows his plan and only drinks water and soda, but Louis downs one beer after the other, and eventually starts laughing at his friend for sneezing and coughing so much.

He risks dancing at some point.

Some guys keep inviting him to the dance floor, and Britney turned into Beyoncé and, like, who doesn’t dance to the queen, right? Bow down, bitches!

 

Louis feels free. For a second there he forgets all his worries and throws himself in the arms of Ross, a twenty-six year old guy, who is blonde and has hazel eyes and that’s all he knows about him. They dance together for a while, but when Ross decides to touch Louis’ ass, the teacher finds out Ross isn’t the one he’s making out with tonight.

He frees himself from his embrace, apologizes, gets another drink, and starts dancing with another group. This one is mixed - guys and girls just having fun -, and even Niall decides to give it a go.

They all move and jump together, and this is good. It’s  _ fun _ . 

“Hey,” a guy bumps shoulders with Louis, spreads a huge smile.

He’s got black, curly hair, and his skin is pale, contrasting perfectly with his red, red lips.

“I’m Ezra.” He says in Louis’ ear.

“Louis.” The teacher smiles. And then they dance. They separate themselves a bit from the group and Louis lets Ezra guide him by the waist to a quieter corner.

He learns this guy is an actor, who is just about to get his big break, and he’s just turned twenty one. His hair curls behind his ears and he has a very strong New York accent, obviously being from the Big Apple. They don’t exchange much more information after the basics, they just stick to small talk and dancing around each other.

The waiters keep coming, and they down a few shots together. When Ezra presses closer, Louis doesn’t tell him to step back - instead, he holds him by his arms and dances to the rhythm of the music, singing Drake loudly in the other boy’s ear and not minding his pitch at all.

When Louis throws his head back, in a particularly loud scream, Ezra attaches his mouth on his neck, and from then on out, there is nothing stopping Louis from kissing the living shit out of him.

(They get off in the bathroom. It’s good, quick, dirty. Louis saves his phone number and promises he’ll call again. He’s not sure that he will. But then again, he might.)

 

“You alright there, bud?” Niall asks Louis in the cab again.

“I am…” Louis looks up, seeing only the black ceiling of the car, a happy, tranquil smile on his face. “You had fun?”

“Not as much as you.” He snorts. “Happy for you, though.”

“Thanks, Nialler.”

Louis thinks he falls asleep after that, because next thing he knows his head’s on Niall’s shoulder and the Texan man is softly shaking him, telling Louis that they’ve arrived. 

The teacher sleepily blinks a few times, asking Niall for his wallet to pay for the ride.

“That’s okay, it’s on me, he’s still gonna take me home.” Home is a street away. “Here, wallet and cellphone. I took care of them for ya.”

“Thank you, Ni. For everything tonight.” Louis smiles and gets out of the car. “Get better, yeah?”

“I’m good, pal. A little cold never killed anybody.” He winks. “Hey, Lou!” Niall calls him right before he walks away.

“Yeah?”

“Harry called. But I told him you were busy.”

“Oh, okay, thanks.”

“Louis?” Niall calls him again.

“What?” He turns around again.

“Harry sounded jealous that you were at a nightclub.” His friend says. Louis waits for him to finish. “Maybe I should’ve told him not to be, since you were making out with a copy of his.” And then he drops the bomb. “Night, babes!” Niall all but yells and then tells the taxi driver to just go.

 

Louis is incredulous on the way up to his apartment. But when he gets there, at three-o-five in the morning, it hits him that he  _ did _ make out with a copy of Harry Styles.

The hair color; the skin; that  _ mouth _ . The only big difference was the eyes, really. Ezra’s eyes aren’t nearly as green or nearly as pretty as Harry’s green ones.

_ Holy fuck _ . Louis thinks, but he says it out loud too.

The teacher gets in the shower and punches the wall at least five times, not believing his own subconscious. It is not possible that he went out to get some and the only person who actually caught his attention was an older and poorer version of his eighteen year old student.  _ Friend _ . His eighteen year old friend.

Try as he might, it’s been difficult for Louis to see Harry as a student these days. More often than not, seeing the boy in his classroom is a reminder that he needs to keep being somewhat professional around Harry, because in all honesty their relationship is so much bigger than that school nowadays.

Louis doesn’t go to bed without talking to him, and when he wakes up Harry’s already wishing him good morning. He drives him to work whenever he can. He’s friends with his  _ mother _ . Louis’ entire family and his best friends are all aware of who Harry is and how important he is to Louis.

There’s too little that separates their friendship from something else, and that’s the thin line Louis has convinced everyone that doesn’t exist, but that it’s so. clearly. there.

Suddenly he feels very dizzy, and changes the shower from hot to cold. He jumps for a bit because cold, in the middle of the night, in the middle of autumn, in  _ Chicago _ , means fucking COLD, but Louis needs it. He needs to clear his mind in order not to hit his head on the bathroom tiles.

So. There’s a line. An invisible but very fucking clear line of all things Harry. And Louis can’t cross it -  _ won’t  _ cross it. As much as he didn’t want to believe or accept it, as much as he’d never even  _ considered _ it before, he is, apparently, attracted to this guy who is six years younger than him.

Who’s also taller and has a great body; who knows how to dress amazingly, even though he’s basically always in the same outfit; whose hair is always gorgeous, whether it’s falling onto his shoulders, damp from the shower, or up in a bun. Whose smile could light up and entire town. Whose eyes are always searching and hopeful. Whose hands are big and warm and firm.

_ I’m fucking unbelievable _ , he tells himself again. His head hurts.

 

Louis closes the tap, exits the shower, and deletes Ezra’s number before he even dresses up.

If he can’t have Harry, he’ll not settle for a copy.

_ You creep. He’s eighteen _ . He tells himself again.

 

Harry trusts him. Harry counts on him.

How could Louis  _ do _ this? How could he let himself be attracted to him?

He massages his temple and turns his phone off. He’ll spend Sunday in bed and out of touch. If anyone wants to talk to him, they’ll have to knock on his door. 

 

-

 

His plans are working perfectly, until he sneezes for the first time at four p.m., when he’s just finished doing laundry. By six he is coughing too, and makes himself tea with honey, not feeling like eating anything.

At nine o’clock Louis knows he’s sick, and he’d blame Niall if he hadn’t been the one to invite him out. At ten thirty, when his nose is congested and he knows he won’t sleep well tonight, he sends James an email in the hopes that the principal is awake, telling him he might need to be absent tomorrow.

Louis doesn’t want to get his students sick, and he doesn’t want to work feeling like shit.

He waits for a reply as he calls home and asks the names of things he needs to take (he never ever memorizes them), and then he calls the drugstore, praying that they’ll deliver medicine at this time on a Sunday night.

 

The stars aligned, the heavens hear Louis’ prayers, and James tells him to stay in, he’ll have the substitute teacher fill in for him. The drugstore delivers his medicine a little bit before eleven p.m., and Louis takes it, passing out seconds later.

 

-

 

It’s a horrendous night.

He wakes up almost every other hour to blow his nose, and cough some more. When Louis was a kid, he used to get sick all the time, his immunity always sucked. Nowadays, he doesn’t get sick as much, but when he does, the illness takes him by surprise, and comes in full force, taking forever to let go of him.

Louis tosses and turns in bed, and at seven he finally gives up on having any sleep.

He texts Zayn to let him know he won’t be going today, and even though he knows he should call Harry, he doesn’t, still feeling extremely guilty due to his newfound feelings.

He watches TV all morning; all kinds of garbage he hasn’t seen in forever. The only thing he manages to drink is tea with honey again, and he chews one piece of toast down, giving up right after, since his throat is starting to get fucked up too.

At eleven a.m., he takes his second round of medication, and he goes to bed right after, falling asleep again.

 

-

 

“Lou…” Someone’s calling his name. “Lou, wake up, are you all right?” It’s Harry. Louis knows it’s Harry. He doesn’t want to open his eyes though. “Louis, it’s three o’clock, please wake up, you’re burning up.”

Slowly, ever so slowly, Louis turns his body and feels hot all over, his body’s sweating and fuck, he can’t breathe. Louis quickly kicks the covers, and Harry helps him remove them, blowing cold air on his forehead right after, his fingers holding Louis’ hair back.

“Hey.” Harry’s voice is calm, and his eyes are worried. “How are you?”

“Sick,” he coughs as he speaks. “Fucking-” Louis groans, then yawns, then coughs again.

“I can see that.”

“What are you doing here? You should be at work.”

“I asked Mr. Malik why you weren’t at school, when he told me, I called the café and said I wouldn’t be able to go in today. They think I have a test. Please give me a signed paper later,” he jokes.

“You didn’t have to.” Louis says.

“I wanted to.” Harry replies, hands still caressing his hair. “I’m making you soup, been here for a while now. Woke you up because it’s almost ready, but you should shower first. You really are burning up.” He blows cold air on him again. Louis shivers. 

“Everything hurts, my whole body.”

“‘M sorry.” 

“Not your fault.” He mumbles. “Went out with Niall on Saturday, he was sick as a dog, obviously passed it to me. I hate viruses.”

“Yeah. He uh- I talked to him.” Harry averts Louis’ gaze. But that’s okay. Louis is sick, and still paranoid that he might be  _ ogling _ the boy instead of just looking at him.

“Sorry I didn’t call back.” He looks down when he says.

“Why didn’t you?” The boy’s voice is curious.

“Got in pretty late.”

Harry seems to think over what to say next, and then he settles for:

“Okay.” And takes a deep breath. “‘M sorry I’m in your room, and woke you up. I was a bit worried, and, like I said, food’s almost ready.”

Louis hadn’t even given it a second thought, but now that the boy’s mentioned it, it is indeed the first time Harry’s been inside Louis’ bedroom. The entire apartment is already filled with the boy’s smell, and his trails are everywhere — the shoes and socks he leaves behind, belts, jackets, hair ties. But Louis’ bedroom was clean up until now.

The teacher only says  _ that’s fine _ , and tries to sit up. But what’s on his mind now is the fact that now there isn’t even one space in this whole apartment where Harry hasn’t completely impregnated with himself, and now his presence is imbued everywhere. Oh well.

 

Louis gets up and goes towards his dresser in search for new boxers and clothes. Harry waits by the door and asks if he needs anything.

“Nah, I’m good. I’m going to shower and then eat. I’d say it smells good, but honestly I can’t smell anything.”

“Even your voice sounds weird.”

“Ridiculous, I know.” He snuffles.

“Sorry, Lou.” Harry chuckles. “I’mma check on your soup. Come find me after your shower.”

“Kay.”

 

The shower does help Louis’ body, and even though he lukewarm water hits his skin like ice, he knows a really  _ hot _ shower would only make things worse. As it is, he makes sure he doesn’t wash his hair — too sick to have it wet, too tired and lazy to blow dry it —, and makes everything as quick as possible.

Feeling a little bit better, Louis dresses up and brushes his teeth, something he hasn’t done since  _ Sunday _ morning — damn it —, and walks towards the kitchen, where Harry’s already set up the table.

“It’s very spicy, which will make your runny nose a bit better. I made it for Mom when she got sick,” he says.

“Thanks so much, Hazz.” Louis sits at the table, moving to get himself some soup. “I’d have made Liam come over and cook for me if it weren’t for you.”

“It’s not a problem.” He says. “I’mma stay here today, if that’s all right?”

“No, don’t want you getting sick. You can go home, I’m fine, really.”

“Home’s boring. I got no homework today.” Harry smiles. “We can sit on the couch really far from each other, and then I’ll be safe, what d’you think?”

Louis thinks it’s total bullshit. He thinks Harry will end up sick anyways, and he thinks he needs some time for himself.

But he also thinks he’s even softer when he’s sick, and that he’d really like some company for the afternoon and night.

“I think that’s awesome,” he smiles. “No homework? How come?”

“I did everything over the weekend, and since you didn’t go in today, the substitute teacher only showed us a movie.”

“What about biology class?”

“At the lab.”

“Hm.” He hums. 

“Louis, I don’t have any homework.”

“I believe you.” The teacher nods.

“Good.”

“What movie did you guys watch?” He asks then.

“Midnight Train to Lisbon.” Harry offers.

“Did you like it?”

“Yes! It’s amazing! Did you know that there’s a book?”

Harry goes on and on about the movie as Louis eats, and he eats a bit too when he finally shuts up; Louis is absolutely endeared that he liked the movie so much, and makes a mental note to buy him the book some other day when he’s feeling more like walking and less like dying.

The soup does wonders to his throat and is good for his nose too, and when they finish eating, Harry opens the couch and brings a huge comforter from Louis’ bedroom to the living room.

 

“What are we watching then?” Harry asks.

“I’m in the mood for a Harry Potter marathon, I think.” Louis says.

“Harry Potter it is!” The boy smiles.

 

They do start far away from each other. But thirty minutes into the first one,  The Philosopher’s Stone, Harry gets closer and offers Louis some cuddles. The teacher is strong, but not  _ that _ strong. He lets Harry hug him and run his fingers through his hair, and he also lets Harry make him tea when they put Chamber of Secrets on, with the condition that they’ll go back to the same position, which they do.

In Prisoner of Azkaban, Louis gets cold again, so Harry pulls him in closer, throws the comforter over the both of them.

“You can nod off if you want, you know?” Harry mumbles to his temple.

“I’m good.” Louis whispers back.

He really loves Harry Potter. But what he loves even more is the way Harry kisses his temple twice, firmly, before turning back to the screen.

 

Inevitably, Louis takes a nap. And when he wakes up it’s to a soundless TV, and hushed whispers coming from beside him. He doesn’t open his eyes, but he hears the boy speaking as low as he can.

_ “He’s warm now, but the fever went down, I think.”  _ He says into the phone.  _ “Chicken soup, a bit spicy. My mom’s recipe.” _ Harry talks to the other person.  _ “I think he’s taking them every twelve hours, but- yes, that’s what I thought, every eight hours is better, at least for now. Thanks for confirming it.” _ A pause.  _ “D’you want me to wake him?” The person speaks on the other side. “I will, of course.” _ Louis feels rather than sees Harry smiling.  _ “Thank you, Jay. I’ll let him know you called.” _

He does his  _ best _ not to stiffen, but he’s pretty sure Harry notices he’s awake now. The boy hangs up the phone and they’re suspended in air. He runs his fingers through Louis’ hair again, and the part of Louis’ face that isn’t squished on Harry’s chest moves, only one of his eyes opening.

“Your mom called.” Harry whispers.

“I noticed.”

“Is it okay that I picked up?” He asks.

“I don’t know.”

“Are you mad?” He’s careful, his tone is controlled.

“Course not.” Louis mumbles.

“Then what is it?” The boy asks again, hand stilling on Louis’ scalp.

“I don’t  _ know _ .” The teacher closes his eye again, shutting them both strongly.  _ Who’s the fucking teenager now? _ “‘M sorry. ‘M sick and grumpy.”

Harry chuckles with his whole body.

“That’s alright. Sleep some more, Lou.” He says and kisses his temple again.

Louis doesn’t think twice and hugs Harry’s body, letting the boy go full horizontal. 

Sick or not, it’s the best sleep Louis has had in a while.

 

-

 

Harry also gets sick, but still goes to school and work.

Louis gets better, but can hardly face the other boy.

Zayn doesn’t notice a thing. Yet. Liam, on the other hand, and much like Niall, is pretty much already aware of what’s going on.

But October continues, full of windy days and cold suns. Along the month Louis runs a bit more, sleeps a little less, talks to Lottie more than he has the rest of the year, and when the end of it rolls around, Louis finds himself almost as excited as his students for the Halloween party.

His costume turns out great, and with Liam’s help, Louis manages to style his hair just like David Tennant’s, and he found the perfect, most accurate glasses. He sends all of his friends a picture, and everyone says it looks  _ sick _ . Louis thinks so too. He’s so going to be the coolest teacher at that party.

 

-

 

The party kind of blows.

Well, if you’re a student, it’s amazing. Everything looks beautiful, the music is great, and the dance floor is lit. Everyone dressed up nicely, and there’s a make up station sponsored by the art teacher that is coming up with incredible stuff for the teenagers. 

If you’re a teacher - which is Louis’ case - then yeah, the party kind of blows. They put him in the worst position ever: by the drinks’ table. Which means he can’t even pretend he doesn’t see when a student slips alcohol into a soda cup, and regretfully takes it out of his hand, apologizing for the inconvenience.

He can dance, sure, but always aware of his surroundings. He talks to some other teachers, but mostly he sticks to his senior students and their dates; some are from the school, some aren’t, so Louis is introduced to them and shakes everyone’s hands with a smile on his face.

“Looking good, Louis Tomlinson,” Jade, the school secretary, talks to him.

“Hey, you came!” Louis hugs her happily.

Jade and Louis aren’t best friends. In fact, they don’t even talk much. But the first time he showed up at school, she was really nice to him; she was the one to tell him Louis would take the  _ fit position _ from Zayn. He doesn’t know about that (Zayn  _ is _ absurdly fit!), but he’s definitely more liked than him. Maybe  _ not _ teaching math helps.

Anyways, Jade.

She comes to his rescue, since he’s been alone for the past ten minutes, standing next to a table.

“Was a last minute thing, I’m glad I’m here.” She smiles.

“You look gorgeous, love.” He congratulates the girl on her costume. She’s in a Dorothy costume, and even though it isn’t very original, it suits her very well.

“Thank you. You make a great  _ Doctor _ , too.” The secretary tells him. 

“So, what’s your job tonight?” He asks her.

“Mostly check the young and make sure they don’t have sex on school property,” she snorts. “As if I’d cock-block seventeen year olds.”

“Guess they’d hate you for it.” Louis jokes.

“They definitely would.”

“Make me company then,” he shrugs. “I’m super bored.”

 

He doesn’t know where Harry is. He knows Harry is coming and he knows he’s coming in a bit late because of work, but he has no idea where the boy is.

The party goes on for a couple more hours and the more time passes, the lazier Louis gets. He and Jade decide to sit down at some point, because they’re young too, but they’re  _ human _ . These days, Louis really can’t see a chair, because he  _ will _ sit down.

 

All the students want to take pictures with him. It’s great, really. One blond senior says she wants to be his Rose, and Louis spits his coke on her completely unintentionally. He apologizes immensely, but at least three people caught that on camera. He’s scared of what his Tuesday is going to look like in that sophomore class. 

**_New friend?_** A text from Harry comes when he’s just finished telling Jade about his own senior prom.

**Where are you?** Louis texts back, scanning the room.

**_Door._ **

He looks around and sees Harry. He doesn’t look like he’s in a costume, and by now Louis isn’t either, really. He’s forgotten the glasses and the blazer, wearing just slacks and a shirt, sonic screwdriver safely guarded in the secretary’s bag.

_ Come in _ , Louis mouths, and then, realizing Harry won’t be able to read his mouth because it’s dark, he texts the boy those same words.

**_Not wearing a costume._ **

**So?**

**_Just stopped by to say hi._ **

Harry waves.

“Wait!” Louis ends up saying out loud, getting up from his chair. Harry chuckles from afar. “Sorry,” he turns back to Jade. “Can you take care of this for a while? I need to- uh, see to something.”

“Oh, no problem, Louis.” She smiles back. “My fiancé is picking me up in half an hour, so just come back for your things before that.”

“Will do. Thanks, love.” He kisses her on the cheek and walks across the room, ready to find Harry.

 

The hallway is a bit dark, but then again the party’s happening at the gymnasium. The rest of the school isn’t even officially open.

“Hey, you.” Louis smiles at him.

Harry places both hands in his pockets and tilts his head, asking if Louis can follow him.

The teacher starts walking. The music is lower now, and the lights a bit dimmer. They’re not too far into the school, just enough to be out of sight.

“You okay?” He frowns.

“Yeah.”

“Why aren’t you wearing a costume?” The teacher asks. And then it hits him, just as Harry rolls his eyes. “I could’ve gotten you one.”

“Nah,” Harry chuckles. “I’m not the biggest fan of these things anyways.”

“Why do I feel like you’re lying? You’re  _ such _ a bad liar.”

“I pretend that I like you everyday, so I wouldn’t say I’m that bad.” The boy makes fun of him. Louis tries to be annoyed, but he ends up laughing lightly. “I love dressing up and stuff. I’m not a fan of school parties.”

“Why? Don’t you like to dance?”

“Not alone, I don’t.” Harry says. “And it’s not like you’d dance with me, so.”

“And you wanna dance with me?” Louis asks, only half aware of his flirty tone, raising his eyebrows.

“I do.” He steps closer, offers Louis’ a hand. The second big line Louis crosses is taking Harry’s hand in his.

Louis has no idea of what song is playing at the moment; he knows it’s a bit slower than the other ones, and people are probably with their dates right now. But other than that, the only thing he can properly focus on is how this taller boy is hovering over him; how his hand fits perfectly on Louis’ waist and how he breathes hot air into his ear when he connects their bodies.

So, this is what he is doing. He’s slow dancing with Harry Styles, in a semi dark hallway, and his breath’s already ragged just because of the closeness. Harry hums to the song and moves their bodies accordingly, and Louis goes with it; he lets his body sag into the boy’s and rests his head on his chest, feeling Harry’s heartbeat pick up the more time they spend together.

He loses himself in it. Doesn’t know how much time it passes - maybe just a couple of minutes, or song or two - but they face each other and Louis is, without a shadow of a doubt, drawn to this boy; and he’s so absorbed into the moment that he barely notices when Harry tilts his face to the side and presses their lips together.

It’s warm and firm and quick.

And it changes everything.

  
  



	11. PLEASE, DON'T SAY YOU LOVE ME

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I left you with that cliffhanger.  
> Ok. Actually, I'm not, haha.  
> Anyways.  
> Here's what happens next:

 

 

 

**_"And how we feel is hard to fake, so let’s not give the game away."_ **

 

 

 

It is a tense drive home. To say the least.

Harry’s by his side, and whenever he tries to open his mouth Louis shuts him up. There’s just no way he can hear the boy speak now otherwise he’ll crash this fucking car.

Things happened exactly in this order:

1) Harry kissed him. He actually, dead ass kissed Louis outside the school gymnasium on a dark corner.

2) Louis let Harry kiss him. At least for a couple of seconds, he did. Because, like he said, he was _lost_ in it. He gave in to an instinct stronger than any other. He gave in to passion and to want, but he also gave in to something deeper; something hidden in his heart, something that is now more awake than ever.

3) Louis came to his senses and pushed him away. Harry didn’t look hurt, no, he looked extremely pissed off. So. Louis told the student to follow him.

4) The teacher grabbed his things, made up an emergency and dragged Harry into the car, ordering him to stay quiet until they were inside the four walls of Louis’ apartment.

 

Now. Louis is freaking out. He is. He told Harry to stay quiet mostly because he doesn’t know what to _say_ to him.

You see, Louis isn’t a liar. And even if he were one, there is no way Harry didn’t feel the way Louis melted into him; the way their lips fit perfectly; the way the teacher pushed him away with a groan almost escaping his throat because he so wanted it to continue.

How does Louis tell the boy he _imagined_ things? How does he force him to stay away from him after so many months of promising he’d be there for everything? How does he _blame_ Harry for kissing him when their relationship’s been blurred from the very start?

 

Maybe some part of Louis already knew.

Maybe the second he got up on that motorcycle defined how his life was going to be. Maybe, when he barged into Harry’s house - into his personal life -, his subconscious was already aware of his pre-existing feelings.

But what feelings?

Is Louis even in love with him? Is he only attracted to him? Does he _love_ Harry?

 

He knows he cares. Fuck, he knows he cares _so much_ , and the biggest, clearest evidence of that is the fact that he is going out of his mind right now. Because if Louis didn’t care, he would’ve kissed the living shit out of Harry, not giving a damn about the consequences.

If he didn’t care, he wouldn’t be worrying about the meeting he had with James only a month or so ago, or having to move away, or having _Harry_ transfer schools because of a mistake. _Damn it_ . Calling it a mistake makes Louis _cringe_.

It didn’t feel like a mistake. It felt so, so fucking right.

 

He turns the corner of his building and almost forgets to slow down, quickly apologizing to the boy for driving like a maniac. Harry whispers _it’s fine_ , and Louis doesn’t look at him. He parks the car in the garage and they both walk together to the elevator. It’s something they’ve done a hundred times by now, but it’s never felt so wrong.

Harry isn’t complaining about the ripped carpet or the broken mirror and Louis isn’t telling him to shut up and take the stairs instead. They aren’t bumping shoulders. They aren’t even _looking_ at each other.

Something’s so seriously wrong right now.

 

Upon entering the living room, the teacher finally explodes. He doesn’t think. He doesn’t _calculate_ what he says. It just comes out.

“ _What in the actual fuck was that?”_ He asks Harry.

The boy simply looks down.

“A kiss.”

“I know it was a kiss, Harry. But what the fuck were you _thinking_ ?” Louis _is_ exasperated. He can’t even pretend.

He must look like a madman now. Only he is a madman without a box. A Halloween costume was never so fitting.

“That maybe you wanted to kiss me back.” He responds, still not meeting Louis’ eyes. Voice only above a whisper. “And you did, didn’t you?” It’s his turn to ask, acting brave. “For a second there you kissed me back.” He’s almost… Hopeful.

Louis likes him such a ridiculous amount.

“Harry. You’re-”

“What? Misreading things?” He gets closer. “Could be.” The boy accepts the possibility. “Or maybe you’re scared as fuck because you really wanna fuck your eighteen year old student.”

“I-”

“I know you, okay?” Harry tells him. “I know exactly how your mind’s working right now. For _months_ now I’ve been holding back because I knew the exact reasoning you’d make. If I’d kissed you when I first _wanted_ to, you’d say it was because I’d just gotten that course and was happy, and thought I owed you something. Then, afterwards, you’d say it was because my dad died and I was feeling vulnerable and you took care of me.

For a while there, _I_ thought that too, you know? Ever since the first time I wanted to kiss the living shit out of you I wondered why that was.” Harry smiles sideways. There’s a slight pause, and then he tells Louis: “It’s because you’re good to me. Everything is better with you. Everything’s _been_ better since you,” he says softly. “So yes, maybe it has to do with how much you’ve done for me, and how much you take care of me, but… This doesn’t have to be a bad thing.

I never felt like I owed you anything, Louis. The things you did for me, they… They didn’t make feel obligated to give you my body or whatever garbage you might’ve thought of in our car ride. The things you did for me made you even more beautiful. They made you exactly the kind of person preteen me dreamed of meeting. Like someone I’d want to spend a long, long time with.”

“Harry.”

“Everyone’s always told me I was too much or not enough. In every aspect, in anything I did in life. But you made me feel just right.” He walks closer. “I could lie to myself and say this was a mentor thing; a fraternal relationship? A friendship, if you will. And I _would_. If your eyes weren’t so damn blue and- I’m sorry, your ass so damn big,” the boy chuckles. Louis is perplexed. “I would, if it weren’t for how warm you are, and how sometimes your eyes linger on my chest and legs and you think I don’t notice.”

“I don’t-”

“You do.” Harry sighs. “You do, and that fucks you up, because this is fifty shades of wrong. _I know_ , okay? I know…”

“You make it hard not to stare.” Louis offers, in the lack of an actual response.

Harry takes one more step closer.

“… But if at eighteen years old I can get my shit together, man up, and admit I’m head over heels for my English teacher, then maybe he can dignify himself to at least admit that he has _some_ kind of feelings for me.”

Harry takes a breath, looks expectantly at him.

If this boy, this _wonderful,_ _golden_ eighteen year old boy can get his shit together, man up, and admit to his feelings, then maybe Louis can be honest too.

“I didn’t know.” He finally says, voice hoarse. “I didn’t know I had feelings for you.” Louis confesses. “Up until maybe… A few weeks ago? Just before I got sick? Yeah…” He nods more to himself than to Harry. “I honestly had never thought of you as more than someone I cared a lot for. So, the uh- the realization that it was… More, it- it hit me like a train, Harry, and sometimes I don’t know how to look at you without feeling dirty, and wrong, and just-”

“Lou.” Harry takes his hand.

“No, H.” He walks away. “You’re eighteen years old. _Eighteen_.”

“Age is just a fucking number. Dad was ten years older than Mom.” The boy replies.

“You’re my student.”

“I thought I was your friend.” He responds.

“One thing does not exclude the other, all right?” The teacher raises his voice. “This is an ethical nightmare, and I honestly don’t know what’s more difficult…” He paces around the room. “I had _no_ idea you saw me like that till tonight. And that hurt.” Louis swallows hard. “But now- fuck. Now I think it’s even harder.”

Louis messes his own hair up. He opens the first three buttons of his shirt and toes his shoes off, sitting on the couch and cradling his head in his hands, elbows rested on his knees, his whole body leaning forwards.

“Louis.” Harry calls his name.

“It’s not- I don’t wanna _fuck you_ for the sake of it.” He voices. “I- don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying I don’t wanna fuck you,” they both snort, “I’m saying that that isn’t the only thing I wanna do. You say you don’t feel obligated to do things for me, which you _aren’t_ , and…” Louis looks at him. “I never felt obligated to do anything for you either. Consciously speaking, I’m still not. But I _want_ to. I want you to be happy and healthy and- and I wanna see you, because… When I let a day go by without talking to you… Uh. Then that day’s just no good.” He smiles weakly.

“You too, you know?” Harry carefully kneels between Louis’ legs. “You are my good days.” Then he holds both of Louis’ wrists, kisses the inside of the left one with the softest, warmest lips.

“Hazza…”

“Louis, I-”

“Don’t.” He presses a finger to the boy’s mouth. “Please, don’t.”

“Why not?”

“Cause I might not say it back.” As the words come out of his mouth, Harry’s face falls at once. “Hey.” He pushes him closer. “Doesn’t mean my heart stops skipping when you look at me like that…” Louis cups Harry’s face with his hand and the boy rests his cheek there, blinking at him with watery pupils. “Just- only fools rush in, and this time I’m gonna slow down, yeah? Because this could,” he takes a deep breath. “This could be something more.” A pause. “One day.”

“Lou.” The boy pushes himself closer.

“H.” Their foreheads touch, and they’re once again breathing the same air tonight. “We can’t do anything while you’re my student, do you get that?” Louis makes sure to ask, his thumb caressing the side of his cheek, while the other hand holds one of Harry’s.

“’S gonna take _forever_ till I graduate, Louis.” He whines.

“And if you still feel the same by then, we’ll give it a try.” Louis promises. “But not now. Not like this.” He kisses his cheek. “H. Why?” He asks as he clears a single tear escaping the boy’s right eye,

“Because, despite having to wait, I’m happy.” Harry says, his trembling lips stretching into a smile. “Damn, your eyes!”

Louis chuckles, involuntarily closing his eyes.

“Come up here.” He pulls Harry up, making the boy sit by his side.

The teacher hugs him with as much guilt as freedom. This is already wrong. He’s just trying not to make it worse.

“I just wanted _one_ kiss, you know?” Harry whispers. “I’ve been. I’ve been so lonely, Louis.”

“Babe…” Louis lets it escape.

“Please, just kiss me once.” He asks in his ear. _“Just once.”_

Louis would be lying if he said his whole body didn’t shudder at that. And it’s already been established that Louis isn’t a liar.

He turns his face sideways.

“I want to kiss you now more than I want to breathe,” he confesses looking straight into Harry’s eyes. “But out of all the lines I’ve already crossed for you,” the teacher explains, “this isn’t one I’m ready to. Please respect that.”

Harry whines.

And then nods.

“It’ll be worth the wait, Curly.” He promises. And then, because Louis is only human, he kisses the left corner of Harry’s lips, patting his hair right after.

Harry sighs into his body and starts talking about counting stars.

The boy falls asleep in his arms not much later after, and Louis, who has little to no willpower when it comes to him, just takes off the boy’s shoes and finds him a blanket.

 

Louis falls asleep in his own bed, wishing, with all of his heart, that he could have his arms around Harry right now.

 

-

 

 

When Louis wakes up again, Harry isn’t in the apartment. Breakfast is ready, and tea’s still hot, but his sofa bed is made up, and apart from the food, there’s no trace of him. First, Louis doesn’t make much of it, imagines that maybe the boy had an early shift and will come back later.

But then hours pass, and a whole day goes by, and Harry doesn’t show up; he doesn’t pick up the phone either, or reply to Louis’ texts, and after thinking over last night’s events for the thousandth time, Louis decides that the best thing to do is to let everything simmer down in both their minds. He has a whole weekend to do it, after all.

So. Harry is in love with him. And Louis possibly loves him back; definitely _has feelings_ for the boy. It’s hard to comprehend, really. Like Louis said, up until a month or so ago, nothing was blurred like this. Now, looking back, he’s sure it was pretty obvious, however, he’s still to understand when, how, or why it started.

His grandmother would tell him to give up; she’d say _there’s no reason, you won’t ever understand_ . More than once, while he was still growing up, he’d heard her saying that love is one of the few things that doesn’t need explanation; we might even want to find reasons as to why we like someone, but to _love_ them, well… _We simply do_.

At the beginning, Louis really didn’t have a reason to like him, and he’s not saying this to be a jerk, Harry really was an asshole. But he can see when he started to change; he can remember the first smiles and the first few conversations, and the first time he thought _hey, maybe he isn’t so bad_.

Harry showed himself to be the kind of person who you _want_ to do things for. Maybe it doesn’t make any sense, but that’s really how Louis sees him; like a way for Louis himself to be happy, is to make Harry happy. And that’s so weird, isn’t it? Even taking the _teacher/student_ relationship out of the equation, things don’t just _happen_ like that, do they? People don’t just have feelings out of the blue.

He’s going insane.

Louis pulls at his hair and sighs rolling in bed.

_You don’t need an explanation._

_But why?_

_Stop it_.

By the time he stops having an argument with himself, he texts Calvin and Oli about needing to talk, and if they can maybe meet up soonish. Both men ask him what it is about, but Louis only sends them an eye-rolling emoji. They end up deciding to come to Chicago again, this time on Thanksgiving, which is good, since Louis would probably be alone, being too far from Californiai to fly home for one day.

Sleep comes slowly and with certain difficulty. But it does come. And when Louis wakes up on Monday morning, he feels like he’s walking towards the unknown.

 

-

 

Zayn picks him up at seven thirty, and by seven forty-five they are at the school. His friend asks him about the Halloween party and it takes everything in Louis not to say _Harry kissed me and I kissed him back and I can’t stop thinking about it_.

He tells Zayn the party was super cool, that the students had a blast, and he even managed to socialize with other people. Of course he doesn’t say that by “other people” he means one person, the secretary they both agreed they liked enough to sustain a conversation with months ago.

His mind is swirling, and to get out of his own head, Louis asks Zayn about his own weekend. Doesn’t work much. Zayn talks and Louis wonders, but it’s all right, it passes the time. They get breakfast together — Louis only downs a cup of coffee —, and then they’re off to their own classrooms.

 

Louis always has a few students to arrive super early, and not surprisingly, Harry is one of them. He’s already sitting in his usual chair as Louis gets there, and as the teacher greets the class with a low _morning, everyone_ (respecting theirs - and his own - horrible morning mood), Harry replies just as solemnly, which is weird. More often than not, he’s just as cheeky as ever. Well. Not today.

With the end of the semester approaching, they only have one more book to talk about: The Great Gatsby.

“Who’s heard of it?” He asks after announcing.

Everyone raises their hands. Of course, it’s a freaking classic.

“Anyone know what it is about?”

A bunch of ideas turn up. One thing Louis loves about his students is that they’re not afraid of being wrong, always giving him their input.

_Money. Friendship. Lust. Jealousy. Dreams._

“Love.” Harry says. “It’s about human nature… And love. In a limited amount of space.” He offers.

And he’s so, so right. Louis couldn’t have said it better himself.

“You ever read it?” Louis asks him; the student simply nods. “Anyone else?” Only two hands go to the air. “Well, that’s all right. If you could be very kind and read it again…” He smiles.

“Is it going to be one chapter per week, Mr. Tomlinson?” A read head asks. It’s been forever and Louis still can’t remember her name.

“Yeah, if that’s all right with y’all.” He tells them. “You see, I need you to pay close attention to the unknowns of the book, because that’s where a _lot_ ends up being said. Even by the book’s end, we don’t know much about the main character, Gatsby, and the mystery and enigma that surrounds him can remind you a lot of this Trump-like cult of personality.”

At this, Louis hears murmurs in the room; that’s exactly what he wanted. When you give teenagers something different from the obvious, when you instigate them to look for something that it seems like no one else has found, that’s when they become interested in what you’re trying to teach.

“If you ask me what _I_ see in The Great Gatsby, I’d say it’s the foreshadowing of the Great Depression, which I’m sure you’re familiar with. Everyone is always speaking in riddles, having nothing really important to say, and everyone who surrounds Gatsby… His friends and followers, they’re all oblivious to the fact that the party’s gonna end sometime.

If you want a more recent example, you can compare it to some tech start-ups nowadays. Everyone’s making unimportant things seem important, and no one is worried about the idea rather than _selling_ that idea. The whole culture of today shows us that _another_ Great Depression is coming, and it’ll make the Great Recession of 2008 look like just a little housing bubble that burst.” Louis pauses.

Their eyes are widened, some people are even taking notes already.

Maybe he _is_ inspired today.

“You think the book’s still relevant?” Harry asks.

“Yes, definitely. And there are other things going on in The Great Gatsby that are still true, too. It is, after all, a small book about unattainable love, and the complete lack of respect for marriage and its vows. It’s… Full of double standards, and Fitzgerald, being the genius he was, pointed them out perfectly.”

“So, can I say that, in a way, The Great Gatsby is a novel about the sexes, and the inequity between them?” Harry asks. “And then that maybe- maybe what unites both is their obvious unawareness of reality?”

Louis is so proud of Harry he could _kiss_ him right now. (But well, he really, really can’t.)

He hopes his smile says it all, when he nods and tells him _yes, yes you could say that._

 

Everything goes great, except for the fact that when the bell rings, Harry doesn’t stay back to talk to him like he generally does. That happens for the next three classes they have together, and on the fourth one, a week and a half later, Louis sort of needs an explanation.

 

“Mr. Styles, can I talk to you?” He asks Harry just when he’s putting his notebook inside his backpack.

Harry sighs and sits back down.

The classroom empties quickly, like always, even though today it feels like a lifetime.

“I’m in a hurry,” Harry says getting up, slinging the backpack on one of his shoulders. “Is it important?”

“In a hurry for what?” Louis frowns.

“The MIT course started this week. I gotta be in the lab in… Ten minutes, and I still need to eat something.”

“Oh! Right!” How did he forget about this? “You enjoying it?”

“It’s just started, but yes.” The boy’s barely looking at him.

“Hey.” Louis steps closer. “Are we okay?”

“Yes,” Harry replies, once again, without looking up. “Was that it?” Now he does look into Louis’ eyes.

The teacher is so taken aback that he nods.

“Good. See you next class, Louis.” With that, he walks past Louis as fast as humanly possible.

Well then.

 

-

 

So, Harry is very clearly avoiding him. Louis knows what he’s doing and even suspects why he is doing it, but it doesn’t make him any less pissed off that the boy won’t talk to him. Also, Louis might miss him, you know, just a little bit.

He sits at home by himself on Wednesday night correcting a few papers, and he can clearly see the difference between some of his students; some of them focus on techniques while others decide to go for the sentiment. Louis can appreciate both. What he can’t do is concentrate; not when there’s a car honking nonstop at the end of his street, his microwave keeps beeping to let him know the lasagna is ready, and Louis misses Harry every second now.

Not to be a creep and send yet another text (not that he has sent any since their last conversation at school), Louis knocks on Liam’s door and asks for company. Liam, bless him, welcomes Louis with a beer bottle and a warm couch, and Louis shares his lasagna with him while they watch whatever’s on TV.

For the most part, they talk.

Liam updates Louis on Harry’s neighborhood, and tells him that although the place is pretty much forgotten by the government, things are slightly better now that they’ve started arresting some of the “unimportant” people from the gangs. Liam explains to him that it’s almost impossible to bust the big chiefs, like the ones Harry knows, because they’re always extremely careful, and their names are very much clean, if not for the occasional parking ticket.

It sucks that Harry’s dad had to die for it to get better, but it makes the teacher content to know that the boy is at least ten percent more safe now than he was months ago.

They finish the night with Liam gushing about his girl and saying that he’ll definitely bring her over sometime. Louis smiles and pretends it doesn’t sting that his friend can be with the person he wants to. It’s okay. He _is_ happy for Liam. Just not very happy for himself.

 

-

 

“Mr. Tomlinson, can I talk to you for a second?” Harry asks when Louis is coming out of the restroom.

“S-sure,” he stops in the hallway. “Hi, Harry.”

“Hey. So-” Harry grabs a worn out copy of The Great Gatsby and shows him, reading the quote out loud: _“His dream must have seemed so close that he could hardly fail to grasp it. He did not know that it was already behind him.”_ He takes a breath. “I’ve been… Thinking. This has always been one of my favorite quotes and- uh,” his eyes are so green, Louis needs to get a grip. “Does it mean he was dreaming things who were too small for him? Like- that he was beyond whatever he was dreaming of, and had no idea of it, and his own unawareness made him think he wasn’t good enough?”

“Although I’m a teacher, I can never say with a hundred percent of certainty that this is exactly what Fitzgerald meant when he wrote it. But yes… I’ve always thought the same.”

“Oh, good, this was driving me nuts.” He chuckles and runs his fingers through his hair. “Thanks, Louis. Gotta go.”

“Harry, wait!” Louis doesn’t speak too loud, but he does grab Harry’s arm in the middle of the corridor. The fuck is wrong with him? “Sorry,” he lets the boy go as if he got burned. “Why are you doing this? I thought we were all right.” The teacher all but whispers.

“We are.”

“Really?” He snorts.

“Here’s not really the place, is it?” Harry asks, voice as low as it gets.

“Are you gonna give me the honor of your presence for dinner then?”

“One would think this is crossing a big line, considering I’m your _student_ and all.” The boy whispers back.

Oh.

Louis doesn’t say anything now, just looks at him.

Harry sighs.

“I’ll stop by after work.” He says, at last. “Am in the mood for Japanese food.” And before Louis can say _Japanese it is, then_ , Harry’s already walking away.

 

-

 

At eight o’clock, Harry shows up. It is a good sign that he uses his key, makes Louis’ beating heart calm down a tad.

The food’s already at the coffee table, and the teacher doesn’t bother getting up from the couch. On nights like this, Louis doesn’t really feel his age. Twenty-four isn’t old, per se, but he’s around teenagers so much that he does feel like a proper adult most of the time. However, when it’s just him and Harry, at home, it’s like his age disappears and he just exists on the same wavelength as the boy.

Holy hell.

“How was work?” He asks when Harry offers no proper greeting.

The boy shrugs.

“I was asked out,” Harry tells him as he toes off his boots.

“Oh. Uh-”

“Wasn’t the first time. People are always hitting on me at work. Customers and whatnot. Tonight it was a coworker, though.”

“Hm. Are you- did you.” He doesn’t know what to say.

The student laughs and strides towards him.

“I couldn’t, now could I?” Harry asks, fake amusement in his tone. “Because all I can think about is kissing _you_ ,” he squints his eyes. “And when someone asks me out, I want it to be _you_ asking me out.” He sits down. “Course I didn’t fucking say yes, Louis.”

Louis is…

He sighs; lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“I feel terrible for feeling relieved.” The teacher confesses, body turned to Harry. Louis is uncomfortably sitting on top of one leg, the other dangling from the couch, and he doesn’t even know what to do with his hands, so he just lets them rest dumbly on his lap.

“Yeah, you should.” Harry says. “Feel terrible, I mean.”

“Don’t know what I fucking did to you, but stop _blaming_ me for this.” Louis turns to him, a bit angry. “You barely looked at me for two weeks, Harry. You left in the morning after-”

“What, we slept together?” He snorts. “Did we have a romantic night, did you fuck me nice and slow and passionately, and I left your bed cold in the morning? Was that what happened?

Because the way _I_ recall it, Lou, you turned me down two hundred times, and then we went to sleep very much separately, and I still had to turn up at school the next day and look at you, extremely aware that you have feelings for me and won’t act on them.” Harry says. “More than that…” The boy continues, “I all but embarrassed myself two weeks and a few nights ago, so _please_ don’t judge the way I’ve been acting, ‘m doing the best that I can.”

“So am I,” Louis replies in a small voice. “Hazz, I- I’m going a bit mad without talking to you. It’s okay if you wanna avoid me at school, but- not outside. Please.”

“’S too hard.” He looks down. “Thought it’d be better after I told you how I felt, after I confronted you on how _you_ felt. But it isn’t.” Harry’s hair falling onto his forehead and Louis wants to brush it out of there, but he refrains from it.

“No.” The man agrees with him. “Because now we’re both painstakingly aware of how we feel, and we can’t act on it.”

“Since you decided so.”

“Since _I_ don’t wanna get fired or have you transferred.” Louis explains. “The place you have in my heart now, Harry…” He tells him closely, “No one else has ever had. I… I thought we’d talk more in the morning, I’d prepared for that, barely slept through the night, then I got radio silence.”

“Sorry.” Harry mumbles.

“We _can’t_ be anything more than we already are. Not now. Please understand that.”

“I do.” The boy looks at him. “Consciously, I do. Still.”

“I know.” Idiotically, Louis takes Harry’s hands in his, entwines their fingers. “Baby, I know.” He brings the boy’s knuckles to his lips and kisses them softly.

“Don’t call me baby.”

“You don’t like it?” He asks, wide-eyed.

“I love it.” Harry whispers, but averts Louis’ gaze.

“Think I love saying it too.” The man confesses. “Look, I don’t- I don’t wanna push you, but I don’t wanna hold you back either. I don’t- know what to say. You’re a free person, to do whatever you want. Just- I know that you know, but I’mma say it very clearly, okay?” Harry quickly nods. “Your feelings are reciprocated. Very much so. It’s all pretty… Mutual.”

“’S still good to hear.” A smile spreads on his beautiful, _beautiful_ face. “You’re not pushing me towards anyone. And as for holding me back- I don’t… Know?” He chuckles. “I’m a teenager, after all. If I get drunk and hook up with someone it’ll be normal, yeah?” Louis swallows hard. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding…” Harry laughs.

“Menace.”

“Don’t want anyone but you. Don’t dream ‘bout anyone but you either.”

“You dream about me?” He asks in wonder.

“All the time.” And… There’s a smirk on his face. Louis shouldn’t have asked.

“Fuck me.” He drops on his back, head hanging from the couch.

“I’d like to.” The boy responds cheekily.

“Harry, shut up and go grab a beer.” Louis is very aware that his voice is an octave higher now.

“But I… Don’t want a beer?”

“’S not for you.” He winks.

Harry goes to the kitchen and comes back with a beer and a water bottle. They talk amenities for half an hour, and then Harry announces he has to go. Louis doesn’t want him to, but tonight he understands Harry needs to.

Worried out of his mind, he reminds Harry to text him when he gets home a thousand times.

Louis only falls asleep when he knows his boy is safe and sound.

  



	12. NEXT TO ME

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry sorry sorry!!! had some technical problems!!  
> here we are :)

 

**_"I know it isn’t easy, but I hope to be worth it."_ **

  
  


Louis doesn’t remember the last time he went home for Thanksgiving. This sucks a lot, because he used to love spending the holiday with his family, and his mother’s cooking is yet to be beat. It doesn’t compensate, is the thing. To fly to California and  stay for only a couple of days, and then come back to reality… It’s just too much. Ever since college, he got used to spending it with his friends.

Of course, some of the guys went home, but Louis always decided to stay with his friends. Calvin and Oli never disappointed, and back in the day they had other people to complete their gang too. It’s always been nice. However, this time, Louis figures it’s going to be even better.

As soon as he picks them up at the airport he’s excited. His friends hug him and tell him how happy they are to be here, and Louis can’t believe he’s misses these idiots so much.

Calvin tells him he’s just gotten himself a girlfriend, but they’re not very serious yet — and by that he means they haven’t met each other’s parents, but they’re very exclusive, and he sounds a lot smitten. Oli, on the other hand, got a new job, which is amazing considering he went to law school and busted his ass to get where he is right now.

His friends update him on their lives, the bits that they left out of texts over the past few months, and when they finally get to Louis’ place, both men stare at him in a way that says  _ spill it _ . Louis can’t, at least not yet, so he just shakes his head and offers them reheated lasagna, which was made by Harry just last night.

 

Harry comes often, as it is pretty clear. He comes, he cooks, they watch shows and movies. When Anne calls, she always talks to Louis for a couple of minutes, just to make sure he’s okay. When Jay calls and Harry’s there, the boy always yells over Louis’ shoulder a very loud  _ HI JAY _ , to which Louis’ mom always replies “hello, my love”. 

It’s a bit sickening, is what it is.

Louis is not pretending anything anymore; not to himself, not to Harry, and not to his own family. But it still bothers him that this is happening, that he’s most likely in love with the boy, and that the boy’s mom trusted Louis to take care of him, but now everything’s different.

He doesn’t know what Harry’s told Anne; he’s scared to ask too. As it is, he just lets things happen “how they’re supposed to” (his dad’s words), and keeps in mind that he’s doing his best to keep his integrity intact. Louis wasn’t lying when he said he didn’t want to be fired or have Harry transferred. As hard as it may be, being in each other lives in any way is still better than  _ not  _ at all.

Harry agrees with him, for the most part, but he makes it more and more clear, each day that passes, just how much he wishes things were different.  _ Don’t we all? _ Louis always replies mentally. Right now, he just keeps telling himself over and over again that November is coming to an end, the semester too. After that, they only have six more months. They can make it, right?

 

“Are you gonna talk, Louis?” Oli offers him a beer as he talks. Louis closes the sliding glass door and comes back to the middle of the living room, accepting the bottle from his friend.

“Harry kissed me on Halloween; apparently, he’s in love with me. Also, I might be in love with him too.” It’s a fake-casual tone and his friends know it. Louis says it all in one breath, then takes three gulps from his beer, throwing himself on the couch next.

“Holy shit.” Oli replies.

“Do I have to pretend I’m surprised too?” Calvin asks, sitting by his side.

“The fuck?” The teacher frowns.

“C’mon, I saw it coming from miles away…” He says, looking from Louis to Oli. “You did too,” Calvin then accuses Louis’ other friend. “We talked ‘bout this after the first time we met. And Harry and I actually kept in touch.”

“Hm.” Louis mumbles.

“Harry’s everything you’ve ever been attracted to. It was bound to happen.” Oli just shrugs. “But- how is it working? Are you together?”

“No!” He denies all too quickly and it sounds like a lie. “No,” Louis chuckles now, “we actually aren’t. We’re still being, you know, friends. We can’t- not now.”

“Shit, Lou. Isn’t that hard?” The question is rhetorical, Louis is pretty sure, but Calvin still makes it.

“A fucking lot. I wanna- can’t believe I’m saying this but if not to you, then to whom?” He tries to joke. “I wanna kiss him all the time. And he doesn’t  _ help _ ; him and those fucking hormones of his, I swear to God.”

“Can’t imagine how hard it must be.” Oli offers.

“Yeah, well.” He shrugs. “He’ll come to the bar with us, so you’ll get an idea.” 

“Is he having dinner with us too?” Calvin asks.

“No, with his mom. Ever since his dad died he’s been spending more time with her, which is great— well, splitting it between me and her, I suppose. Plus, it  _ is _ a family holiday, we three are strays.” He laughs.

“Nah, bro, we’re family too.” Oli raises his beer.

“So sentimental…” Louis muses jokingly.

“Shut up, prick.” He responds.

“Kids, please.” Calvin rolls his eyes.

 

God, Louis has missed his people.

 

-

 

On the morning of Thanksgiving, Harry shows up at Louis’ apartment with a turkey. He’s- incredible, really.

“What are you  _ doing  _ here?” Louis asks, kind of exasperated. 

“Mom sent me, actually.” Harry laughs, entering the apartment as if it belongs to him. “She was cooking and asked me what you were going to do, and I had no idea since you can’t cook to save your life-” the boy smirks. “We had an extra one because both of her bosses gave her one, so instead of freezing it till Christmas, she decided to season it for you. Now I’mma put it in the oven and you’re going to control the time. Please do not burn it.” He says.

“You’re- God,” the teacher smiles stupidly, watching the boy turning his oven on after placing the turkey on the counter. “I’m gonna call and thank her properly.”

“She’ll like that.” Harry smiles and rests his back against the island, smiling at Louis. “Where are Calvin and Oli?”

“Sleeping, it’s still nine in the morning.” He replies.

“Did I wake you up when I called?”

“Yes, but it’s okay. ’S good to see your face.” Louis tells him the truth. 

“You’re going to see my face after lunch too,” Harry assures him. “We still on for going to the bar after the game?”

“We so are, dude!” Oli shows up in the kitchen, hair all mussed up from sleep. “Morning. Is that a turkey?”

“Harry’s mom sent it.” Louis explains.

“Awesome. Thought we’d have to order chicken wings.” He chuckles and opens his arms. Harry hugs him immediately.

“Glad you’re here!” The boy says and pats Louis’ friend on the back. “I’m gonna go, but first I’m going to go in there and put shaving cream on Calvin’s hand, is that okay?” He asks with mischief in his eyes.

Both Oli and Louis approve of his plan, and Harry tells them  _ it’ll just be a sec _ , and then he’s vanishing into the apartment. Oli tells Louis that it’s crazy, but he can already  _ see it _ . Louis has no idea of what he means by that. Not yet, at least.

 

Harry comes back less than five minutes later, looking victorious. 

He adjusts the oven and puts the turkey in there, setting up a bunch of alarms on Louis’ phone in order for him to remember to check on it every now and then, and then announces he’s going home to help his mother with lunch, promising to see them later.

“Please don’t let him burn the turkey,” Harry says to Oli. “And you don’t need much more, maybe salad and some mashed potatoes. You can do that, right?” He looks at Louis.

“Sure.” Louis replies, totally uncertain. Can’t be that hard to mash potatoes, though. “Go, be with your mom. We’ll see you later.”

“Alright then…” The boy rolls his eyes fondly. “I’ll see you later.” He waves at Oli and squeezes Louis’ forearm as he passes by him. “Meet you here or at the bar?”

“At the bar?” Louis sort of asks.

“Perfect,” Harry smiles and opens the door, exiting right after.

“That…” Oli starts, “was some domestic shit, my friend.” He laughs. “Harry’s mom sent you a thanksgiving turkey, oh my  _ God _ ,” his friend keeps laughing.

“Shut up.” He replies weakly, pretty sure he’s starting to blush. Jesus Christ.

 

-

 

Calvin wakes up wanting to murder someone, since his face is all screwed up from the shaving cream Harry put on his hand while he slept; it is very, very funny, and Oli makes sure to make a video to show Harry later. Meanwhile, Louis actually pays attention to the turkey, and calls Anne to thank her for it.

In the back of his mind, he knows it shouldn’t be this easy. He’s even a bit scared that maybe Anne will hate his guts when she finds out his feelings for her son aren’t all that fraternal, but he tries very hard to keep in mind that he’s taking it one day at a time, and it’s all he can do now.

Still, talking to her is easy. They spend at least fifteen minutes on the phone; after he thanks her, Anne teaches him how to do some other things, and comes up with an easy recipe for a tasty thanksgiving pie (Louis probably won’t try it, not today at least, but they make good conversation over it). Then, after that, she tells him a story from a Thanksgiving celebration from years ago — Des is in it, and she even gets a little  emotional on the other line.

Louis consoles her and it just hits him that he’s doing it because he cares about her too, because in the last few months he’s also developed a relationship with Harry’s mother, and that he quite likes this woman. So, at the same time it is scary, owing to the fact that Louis sometimes feels like he’s breaking her trust by falling for Harry, it’s also kind of nice to know that, in the future, if Louis and Harry actually turn into something  _ more _ , he’ll have a good relationship with the person Harry loves the most.

 

The phone alarm brings him back to reality and Louis checks the turkey once again; it’s not ready yet, as it’s only been forty minutes since it went on the oven, so he decides to take a shower now that Oli’s out.

His friends being here is great. Louis knows he’s mentioned it more than once, and he’ll probably do it again, but there’s nothing like the comfort of having them around in times like these. They don’t say much during the day — just like they quickly dropped the topic last night —, but they eye him knowingly, because they _do_ _know_ , and that is enough for Louis to feel all right, at least for now.

 

-

 

**_Mom’s making like, three pies. I might bring you one before the bar, if it’s okay._ ** Louis reads when he’s getting out of the shower.

**Course it is, why wouldn’t it be?** He types quickly.

**_You told me to meet you at the bar._ **

Louis has to laugh and roll his eyes even though there’s no one there to see it. Harry’s so stupidly cute sometimes.

**I suggested, you idiot. Come by whenever you want.**

Then he shoots him another one real quick because he’s got things to do and doesn’t want the boy to think he’s ignoring him.

**I’mma go now cause I just got out of the shower and I need to get dressed to 1) check on the turkey, 2) actually attempt to cook other stuff. Laters.**

Louis leaves his phone and puts on sweats and a long sleeve shirt, blow-dries his hair and then finally makes his way to the kitchen. To his surprise, Calvin’s already chopping things for the salad while Oli is slicing the potatoes to put them to cook.

The last thing he reads before he joins them is Harry’s reply to his text, and it has him a bit crazy for the rest of the day.

**_Thanks for telling me you’re naked. Now the visuals are going to kill me while I cook with my mother. Laters._ **

Well fuck.

 

-

 

The day drags on. Louis doesn’t know when he started to count time based on “how long it’s been since I last saw Harry” or “how long until I see Harry again”, but that’s exactly what he does the entire day. He doesn’t text him anymore. Instead, he focuses on making lunch with his friends, and actually enjoying their time together.

When everything is almost ready, Louis decides it’s about time he called his mother, and goes to his bedroom to Facetime with her and the rest of the family. Louis misses them. Louis misses them a whole lot, and the next time he’ll see them is on the twenty-third of December, when he’ll go home for his birthday and Christmas, having promised Zayn he’d be back for New Years. Apparently, the math teacher likes to throw a party every year. Who would’ve thought?

He spends half an hour talking to everyone. His grandparents are there too, and they also want to talk to him, so by the time he’s finished with the call, the food’s ready and both Calvin and Oli are waiting for him.

 

“Can I just be sappy for like, two seconds?” He asks. Both men nod. “I’m really fucking happy you two are here. Thanks, guys.” Louis smiles, raising his wine glass.

“Wouldn’t like to be anywhere else, mate.” Calvin pats his back. “Except my girlfriend’s bed, maybe, but- y’know…”

“Asshole.” Louis snorts.

“For real, though- this food looks awesome, and it’s good to be together.”

“Plus-” Oli continues, “we’re going to have a lot of fun tomorrow too.”

“Where?” The teacher frowns while the three of them sit around the table to eat.

“Literally the nearest store,” he laughs. 

“Oh, right! Black Friday. Totally not leaving my house, but you should have your fun.” Louis remembers and starts eating.

“Remember when you were younger and went out with us every year after Thanksgiving?” Calvin asks, but doesn’t give him the chance to reply. “Me neither. Why d’you hate Black Friday so much?”

“Childhood trauma.” He explains for the hundredth time and the men laugh.

They agree to say their  _ thanks _ at the bar with the other guys and start eating right away. In fact, they’re still eating when the game starts, so they take their plates to the sofa and eat as much as they can while the game goes on. 

 

At around four p.m. Harry is back, carrying a peanut butter and chocolate pie (“because I know chocolate is your favorite”), and everyone is  _ forced _ to make room for at least once slice of it. Louis eats two — sue him.

Harry talks to the guys while Louis texts with Lottie, and when he pays attention to the conversation again, the boy’s making plans with Calvin and Oli to leave the apartment at three in the morning to go shop for electronics. Harry finally managed to put some money together to get himself a new cellphone, and he’s been waiting for weeks now for Black Friday. Louis is glad his friends are going with him, because he honestly couldn’t.

When Harry asks him why, he tells him the same story he’s told everyone who ever asked: it is  _ actually _ a childhood trauma. When he was little, his godparents thought that the best way to  _ have fun _ was to spend endless hours in stupid lines to buy cheaper things. They thought Louis loved it, and Louis - a very polite kid, let it be said - never told them otherwise.

However, the first opportunity he got to deny participating in those activities, he did, and left it up to Lottie to deal with them — she hasn’t forgiven him to the day; in fact, this is only the third year she is BFF, as she says: Black Friday Free.

 

-

 

“Lou,” Harry knocks on his bedroom door.

“Come in, H.”

“Sorry, I just-”

“You gotta stop apologizing for coming in here,” Louis tells him. “‘M just putting on boots so we can go.”

“You look good.” He smiles.

“You also gotta stop complimenting me.” The teacher knows he blushes, but he bows his head so his hair falls forward too.

“Why’s that?” Harry asks, walking further into the room and stopping by his side.

“Menace.” He huffs out. “Thanks, H.” Then Louis looks at him. “Did you need anything?”

“Uh, yeah, actually. Can you lend me a beanie? My hair’s shit and so is the weather outside.” Harry tells him.

“Yeah, sure, just go into my closet, second drawer if I’m not mistaken. ‘M a bit messy.” He says.

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.” The student fakes outrage.

Louis rolls his eyes and goes into his bathroom to brush his teeth; once he comes back into the bedroom, Harry’s putting a green beanie on, his curls escaping on the sides and looking gorgeous. The color of the beanie brings out Harry’s eyes and if Louis had any doubts whether he was in love with the boy or not, they certainly vanish when he looks at him and is absolutely sure that he’s never seen someone so beautiful in his entire life.

His heart quickens in his chest and he sees that Harry opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. Maybe he’s seeing the realization right there, reflected on Louis’ face. The boy smiles and his red lips stretch around his teeth in the most beautiful, pure way. 

“Your hair did not look like shit- it never really does, it’s annoying,” Louis jokes, but it’s only above a whisper. “However, you look stunning right now.”

“Thanks, Lou.” His answer is low too. This moment is just too special to be disturbed.

  
  


-

 

At the bar, they meet with some other people — Liam, as promised, brings his new girlfriend. Niall offers them more food and drinks for free (Louis politely declines the food, but accepts beer willingly), and they play pool and darts and talk and have fun, and when it’s around nine p.m. that they make a circle and, one by one, they say what they are thankful for.

Of course, everyone starts with the basics: life, family, friends, love, food. But then something settles in, and Liam is the first one to cough and say  _ I’m thankful for finally bringing some peace to some districts in Chicago _ . He looks over at Harry almost apologetically, and Harry offers him an honest, but close mouthed smile.

Calvin is thankful for not being sick; apparently, he had a scare a couple of months ago but didn’t tell anyone till the results come in. He’s fine, it’s all that matters, but Louis actually sees life flashing through his eyes at the thought of one of his best friends having something serious. Oli is thankful for having bought his first apartment, a very grown up thing he never thought he’d achieve.

Niall is thankful for the bar profits — his family never believed he’d be able to handle it, and here he is. Liam’s girlfriend, Rita, says she is thankful for meeting her boyfriend’s friends, and  _ believe it or not, this is a huge step for someone like me _ . The police officer hugs her and whispers something in her ear, it’s a cute moment.

Then it’s Louis’ turn, and he’s not quite sure where to start. He coughs to clear his throat and joins his hands behind his back.

“Uh- I.” He looks down. “I’m thankful that I get to bring together my oldest and my newest friends on this date, and I’m thankful that y’all like each other ‘cause that would’ve been embarrassing otherwise…” There’s a round of chuckle.

“C’mon, Tommo.” Niall clasps his back.

“Yeah, I guess… I. When I started teaching, I told my mom I was doing it because I wanted to change lives. I never really thought I’d achieve it so early on in my career, but…” Inevitably, his eyes dart towards Harry. “I think I’ve already managed it?” The boy nods curtly. “And- and I knew it’d be amazing, just… Not this amazing. I’m thankful and I’m hopeful that I’ll continue doing it for years and years to come.”

When he finishes, he receives approving smiles from the group. Louis kind of misses Zayn being here, but the math teacher went to Perrie’s parents’ house, which is close to the city.

“Harry?” Liam asks.

“Oh. I’m… I’m thankful for you, officer Payne.” He smiles. “I’m thankful that you took me to Louis’ house when I needed him the most. And I’m thankful for you, Lou.” The boy looks at him. “I’m glad you once dreamed of changing lives, and actually achieved it,” he says and they all chuckle. “You’ve changed a life so far, and it was mine. So thank you.” Louis really wants to hug him, but he refrains from it.

 

After that, they stay for a bit longer, but since  _ all of them _ (except from Louis, of course) will wake up at ass o’clock in the morning to go shopping, they help Niall cleaning up - since he only opened the bar for them, so no one else came in today -, and then they start saying their goodbyes. 

They’re lucky they can walk home from the bar; 1) because they’re a bit tipsy, and 2) because the traffic is bad. Now, if you don’t know, Chicago has layers and layers of roads so as to avoid traffic jams — the city is damn well planned. However, today is Thanksgiving, therefore, there isn’t one place in this whole country where the traffic is actually good.

Once they’re home — warm, happy, and fuzzy —, Calvin decides to go straight to bed and Oli takes a shower, so Louis goes into his room to get Harry’s things to start and make his bed on the couch.

It’s funny, really, because okay, tonight Louis’ friends are in the guest bedroom, but even when it’s just the two of them here, Harry never opts for sleeping on the bed; he keeps repeating that this couch is already a hundred times better than his own bed, but tonight he confesses that being in the living room allows him to notice when Louis wakes up. The teacher doesn’t swoon at it. Nope.

 

“You sleepy?” Harry asks when they finish making the sofa-bed, Calvin and Oli already inside, probably asleep.

“Not really, just tired.” Louis confesses.

“We could watch something, ma-aaaah-ybe?” There’s a yawn in the middle of Harry’s sentence, but Louis isn’t ready to say goodnight yet.

“Sure.”

He takes off his boots and joins Harry on the couch. Lights are off and there’s only Netflix illuminating the room. Since the two of them are big romcom fans, they opt for putting on something they’ve already watched, so they can have fun, but still be lazy and not commit too much in case they get sleepy quickly.

At first, they’re just sitting close to each other, the duvet covering their legs. But then they’re twenty minutes into  _ How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days _ and end up cuddling, which is fine, it’s completely fine, only they don’t realize that sleep comes very quickly indeed, faster than they expected, and next thing they know Oli is shaking Harry softly, telling him it’s already three fifteen and they should be getting ready to leave.

Louis wakes up because Harry wakes up, and here’s how they are: horizontal. Spooning. Louis has one arm under his own head and another circling Harry’s waist, smelling his hair and feeling his warmness, and their ankles are tangled and holy fuck, he’s never slept better in his entire life. (All right, he’s  _ probably _ slept better in his entire life, but this is… This was good.)

His heart, which was calm, is now racing, and a lot of feelings are coming up at once. He doesn’t know what do to, so he doesn’t do anything. He says  _ morning, Hazz _ and kisses his shoulder. Harry squeezes his hand and says  _ go back to sleep, Lou _ . The teacher simply closes his eyes and feels a light kiss on his cheek; then Harry covers him, and he drifts into nothingness again.

 

-

 

December sneaks up on them, and before they know it, the school is going on recess, Harry’s receiving his MIT certificate, and Louis is about to go home again. At the same time it feels like it was only yesterday that he saw his families, so much has happened in between that it also feels like a lifetime has passed.

Here in Chicago, few people know that Louis’ birthday is on Christmas Eve, still, the ones who do make sure to celebrate it a few days before, since he’s leaving for California on December 23rd.

Zayn makes sure to invite Jade from the school, and once James hears about it, he sort of invites himself over too. And that’s all right, that’s… Okay, Louis really likes them. On his short list of people here, he counts that eight, nine people can fit in his apartment without a problem. The problem, or, well, not problem, but the tricky part, one may say, is that Louis won’t accept having a birthday celebration without Harry there.  _ Harry _ himself won’t accept it either.

Actually, he arrives at Louis’ a day before, telling him he needs to squeeze in as much time as he can with Louis, seeing as they’ll spend a week apart. Jesus, what have they turned into?

It sometimes worries Louis. Especially in the last couple of weeks in which they’ve fallen asleep together more times than Louis can count; he’s fairly sure it was intentional — whenever Harry came over, they’d both agree to watch a movie late at night, aware that they wouldn’t be able to watch it until the end, and they’d sit together on Harry’s made up bed. Then, at around three in the morning, Louis would wake up and go back to his room, feeling guilty for having spooned the boy, but still kissing his cheek before going to bed.

He has no idea of what he’s doing, to tell you the truth. He’s trying to keep it all as platonic as possible, their hugs, their kisses on the cheek, even their conversations about the future (yes, they’ve had a couple of those), but everything’s starting to fall into a grey area that the teacher isn’t sure should exist.

It’s just really fucking hard. Cutting Harry completely out of his personal life until the boy graduates is absolutely out of the question — Louis would never hurt the student this way, and he doesn’t think he’d ever hurt himself this way too. But seeing him every day and almost every night, loving him, longing for him,  _ wanting _ him and not doing anything about it is hard too.

This is completely uncharted territory, and not exploring it is just about killing both of them.

“Tell me you’re not baking me a cake!” Louis exclaims way more fondly than he intended, getting to his kitchen after his afternoon nap. Oh, winter break! 

“Uh, I’m not baking you cake?” The boy sort of asks, flour smeared on his face.

Louis chuckles and walks closer, blowing a raspberry to Harry’s cheek to clean it, then placing a soft kiss there.

“You didn’t have to.”

“Wanted to,” Harry replies cheekily, then kisses Louis’ forehead. “Have you bought everything on the list I gave you? Your mom said you always forget napkins.” 

“I… How’d you know that?” Louis frowns.

“She called while you were sleeping. Told me to check.” He shrugs.

Yeah, it’s a normal thing for Harry to pick up his phone too, whenever it’s Jay or Lottie calling. In fact, when it comes to Louis’ friends, they even have a group chat. Plus, the teacher suspects Harry’s getting closer to Niall too. He can’t believe they’re in a relationship without being in a relationship.

“I did forget the napkins.” The teacher rubs his face and sighs tiredly.

“I know,” Harry grins. “I knocked on Liam’s door to ask, but he was out too, so he called his girlfriend and she’s gonna bring us some. I’m honestly so efficient.”

_ Us.  _ She’s gonna bring  _ us _ some.

“Yes, you are.” Louis smiles. “Thanks, Hazza.” He drops his head to Harry’s shoulder and places a soft, fast kiss there. “I think I’m going to shower and get ready.” 

“You do that, Niall’s coming in a bit to help me set everything up. People are arriving at seven, yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Hey, Louis?” 

“Yeah. H?”

“How do I- do we. I mean. Mr. Corden and Mr. Malik are going to be here. The Jade girl too. I don’t…” He puts his hands in his pockets.

Louis, who had walked in the direction of his bedroom, comes close to Harry once again, holding the boy’s shoulders with each of his hands.

“James knows we have a personal relationship-  _ friendship _ ,” he corrects himself at Harry’s gasp. He  _ knows _ relationship is a pretty acceptable word, it’s just that they try and avoid using it when it comes to them. It’s just too much. “I’ve talked to him ages ago. Jade… Doesn’t. But it doesn’t matter much. As for Zayn, I’ve already told you: this is  _ my _ apartment, and I want you here. Don’t let him make you feel uncomfortable, and if he does- lemme know.”

“No, he…” Harry takes a deep breath mid-sentence. “He never does anything. It’s just his eyes, I don’t know. He freaks me out.”

The teacher laughs.

“He freaks me out sometimes too.”

“Oh well…” Harry sighs. “Go shower. I don’t want you to see your cake before it’s ready.”

“Oh my. Will there be frosting involved?” Louis wonders, actually very curious.

“You’ll know in a bit.” The boy winks.

“Ugh,” he huffs out. “I hate you.” The teacher rolls his eyes and walks away.

“ _ You know you love me!” _ Harry screams jokingly. 

_ Yes, I do _ . 

 

-

 

Harry’s in the shower when people start arriving and Louis doesn’t tell them that the boy is already in his house, so when the boy comes from the corridor, everyone but Niall and Liam stops to stare. Those are some awkward three seconds, before the bar owner walks towards him screaming  _ Harry, bud, good to see you!  _ Harry hugs him and relaxes visibly in his embrace, so Louis turns back to his conversation with Zayn and Jade’s fiancé, knowing that the boy will make rounds by himself and charm the pants off these people.

If James thinks something of it, he definitely doesn’t say. A few minutes later, he’s even engaging in conversation with Harry, asking him what he’s doing during winter break and what his plans for Christmas are. Louis smiles to himself and drinks beer from the red cup Harry insisted he should buy, and then tunes out for a bit.

Everybody seems to be having fun. 

“Tommo! Got a present for you!” Rita says suddenly, handing him a gift wrapped box.

Louis sits on the couch to open it, very much excited, just like a kid. When he finally manages to look inside, though, he finds a bunch of napkin packages, and throws his head back in laughter.

“Idiot.” He shows her his tongue. Louis likes her very much. “HAROLD, THIS IS YOUR FAULT!” Louis screams and searches for the boy who ends up by his side in two seconds.

“’S your mother’s fault, actually.” Harry point out.

“Well, my  _ mother _ didn’t knock on Liam’s door.” Louis sasses him out.

“Tough luck, buttercup.” The boy shrugs. “At least now I can put the pizzas in the oven and people will have napkins to clean their hands later.” He winks.

“There’s pizza?” Perrie’s eyes light up.

“Yup. Come help me…” Harry pulls Perrie by the wrist as if she’s his best friend, and what before pulled strings in Louis’ heart is now normal.

They play charades, because of course they do, and James Corden is really good at it. Not as good as Niall and Louis as a duo, mind, but he’s good. They’re currently waiting for James’ wife to finish, and then it’s Zayn’s turn (he’s playing with Rita), so Louis sits back and relaxes, laughing at the woman’s poor attempt at doing mimics.

Liam walks behind him and puts a hand on his shoulder. Louis turns his head slightly.

“Is Harry spending the night here?” The officer asks.

“Believe, so. Why?” Louis frowns. 

“He’s doing tequila shots in the kitchen with Perrie, but I pretended I didn’t see.”

“I love you, Liam Payne,” he chuckles and Liam rolls his eyes, but ruffles Louis’ hair before going to the free armchair and sitting there. 

It’s around ten thirty that they decide to sing  _ Happy Birthday _ . They’ve already eaten all the pizza and drank most of the beer, though by now Louis has switched to wine and most people are drinking soda. Only Niall and Rita are still drinking beer. Louis has no idea of what  _ Harry _ is drinking, because he’s drinking from a pink cup with a straw Louis didn’t even know he possessed. 

When Perrie and Rita announce that they should get up and sing, Zayn turns off the lights and Harry appears in the living room carrying the cake he made  _ and _ frosted, and Louis is absolutely speechless when he looks at it. It’s mainly white - and it looks fancy. By the sides, though, there are shades of blue from the bottom till almost the top, shaped as waves. On the actual top, Harry decorated it simply: blueberries and blackberries adorning the extremities, and it’s  easily the most thoughtful, beautiful thing someone has ever done for Louis.

The teacher doesn’t have time to thank him (or like,  _ cry _ ) as everyone has already started singing, and there’s a candle burning and a boy grinning at him. In a way, Louis thinks Harry understands — for a brief second they lock eyes in the semi-dark room, and the curly boy nods at him his smile still threatening to break his face in half. Louis thinks he might look the same, so he focuses on the song and the cake itself.

Thankfully, no one asks him to give away the first piece. Niall volunteers to cut it, and they serve it as the adults they are. Holy shit. Louis is a couple of days away from  turning twenty-five years old. It hits him like a train that he is one year closer to thirty and he shivers all over. For the love of God, someone  _ stop  _ time. (Quickly, though,  _ Stop this Train _ by John Mayer comes to mind, and he doesn’t hate turning twenty-five anymore.)

 

“Louis, we’re going!” Jade approaches him. “James is gonna leave and he’ll give us a ride…”

“Oh, kay! Thanks a lot for coming, J, ‘m really happy.” He hugs her. “Thanks for coming, man,” Louis then shakes hands with her fiancé (he can’t ever remember his name, Jesus Christ). 

“Thanks for having us.” The guy replies.

Jade hugs him one more time and then Louis moves to the side to hug James’ wife (what’s her name again?), who’s waiting for him. He thanks her for coming and she tells him it was an absolute pleasure to be here. When it’s James’ turn, he hugs Louis tight, much like an old friend would, and clasps him on the back.

“Thanks for coming, boss, means a lot.”

“Good to be here, Louis.” James smiles. He doesn’t say anything about Harry, but Louis feels like he wants to? Like, his eyes skim the room and he opens his mouth but nothing comes out. Louis  _ could  _ say something, but he doesn’t. At this point, he doesn’t believe words are necessary — they might end up doing more harm than good.

 

-

 

The last people to leave are Niall, who lives at the end of the street, and Liam, who lives a few steps away, carrying Rita with him. Before they go, though, they help Louis put the flat together, since Harry’s absolutely useless on the couch. The officer gives Louis a stern look, telling him that he knows the boy’s illegally drunk, but Louis just snorts and rolls his eyes — as if Liam’s never ever done it.  _ Come on _ .

He closes and locks the door after he says goodnight to his friends one last time, and then walks towards the couch where a very tired, soft, cuddly Harry Styles lays. 

“H, get up, lemme get it ready for you to sleep.” Louis whispers, brushing his hair out of his face. Harry always prefers the sofa bed to the actual bed in the spare bedroom.

“No need.” He replies. “Come here…” The boy opens his eyes, pulling Louis by the hand. Louis stumbles between his legs, Harry sits up straight. “Did you like the party?” He looks up, smiling coyly.

“Yes, it was great.” Louis smiles back, sliding his hands to Harry’s shoulder, then sitting by his side. It’s unexplainable how one of his legs end up on Harry’s lap, but oh well, a lot’s happened between them that Louis hasn’t found an explanation for yet. “That cake was insane. How did you manage to make it?”

“Pinterest, google… Mom.” He chuckles. 

“I thought you were going to say you’d been a baker at some point.” Louis jokes.

“In another life, perhaps…” Harry muses, circling his arms around Louis’ waist, pulling him a bit closer. Then, slowly but surely, he kisses Louis’ cheek. “It sucks you’re not going to be here on the twenty-fourth. But I’m hoping Lottie will coddle you enough.” 

“She’ll probably wake me up with a bucket full of water on my head…” The teacher says, smiling a bit. “But, well. Here’s to hoping.” He sighs. “Liam knew you were drinking.” He says as an afterthought.

“Oh, I know.” Harry chuckles, getting even closer, somehow. How is he doing it? Why’s Louis letting him? “You know… Today was okay. I felt… Okay.”

“Yeah?” Louis smiles and Harry nods. One of Louis’ arms is slung around Harry’s neck, and he brings his other hand up to Harry’s face, caressing his cheek with his thumb. “‘M glad,” Louis then  _ kisses _ his cheek, just for the hundredth time today. What the hell.

“Me too. I am… Happy, Louis.” The boy confesses. “I’m really happy.” He then kisses Louis’ cheek too, and when he leans back, he doesn’t go too far. “I didn’t know what I was before, but… It wasn’t this. This is…”

“I know, Curly.” He plays with Harry’s hair, right behind his ear. Harry all but purrs. “I’m happy too.” One more kiss. Now to Harry’s nose.

He’s kind of drunk. So is the other boy. Louis  _ knows _ where this is leading. And there are about fifty alarms going off in his head right now. All of them are silenced when Harry kisses the corner of his mouth.

“Hazz.” The way Louis says his nickname… He barely moves his mouth, since Harry’s is still there, pressing in the corner of his lips. Harry moves an inch back, then kisses it again, pressing a bit stronger.

“C’mon, ‘s your birthday,” Harry’s hot breath hits his mouth.

“Not yet,” he answers just as languidly, moving another inch closer to Harry’s lips. He can almost  _ feel _ them. “God.” Louis breathes, and then Harry kisses him. And when Harry kisses him, it’s electrifying, crazy in a way that a first kiss between two people like them should be. 

Their lips move in synchrony from the very start.

Louis goes pliant at once, tilting his head and opening his mouth for the boy’s tongue to go in, and it’s just the right amount of warm, and heavy, and insistent, and Louis kisses him back for real, giving all he has in those few, guiltless seconds in which he lets himself love this boy the way he deserves to be loved.

Harry squeezes his waist and raises his other hand to the side of Louis’ neck, hands curling in the hairs of his nape, and Louis opens his mouth wider, kisses him deeper, holds him by his arms and his neck, and returns every slide of his tongue with just as much passion, just as much care.

It almost hurts, how much Louis’ heart inflates in his chest at the thought that this is their first proper kiss. That this the first time he is giving up control to someone else in a long time, that this is the first time this someone else is  _ so _ special. Tonight is the first time Harry’s getting to know this part of Louis. It is the first time their tongues meet, their bodies get hot, their minds go all fuzzy because someone that they’re in love with is kissing them back,  _ is in love with them too. _

Their first kiss is filled with first times…  _ In this lifetime, perhaps _ .

 


	13. WOULDN'T IT BE NICE?

 

 

**_"Happy times together we’ve been spending."_ **

 

 

Going home is cruel the next morning.

Louis wakes up at six a.m. still in last night’s clothes, face squished on Harry’s chest and body completely encompassed by the boy’s arms and legs. Harry’s breathing heavily underneath him, and he looks so peaceful that Louis doesn’t want to move, doesn’t want to disturb this moment. Flashes from hours ago flood his mind and he can’t help but shudder at the thought of kissing him again, and one more time, and for as long as life allows him.

Generally speaking, he can’t complain when it comes to kissing. Louis has kissed his fair share of boys by now, and he’s had some really great experiences, but as cheesy as it sounds, nothing compares to the way he felt when Harry finally closed the remaining distance between them.

Maybe it’s the prohibition of it all that makes it hotter; Louis has thought about it, you know? That maybe the whole situation seems better than it is, making it seem like a huge deal, because that’s what  _ forbidden love stories _ seem like. It has crossed his mind more than once. However, there is another reason as to why Louis feels now more than ever: he’s properly in love.

It’s not like he hasn’t had feelings for anybody else before. He’s had crushes and he’s had boyfriends, as mentioned, so he recognizes that all the signs are there. And they’re heightened. Everything he’s once felt seems magnified somehow, in a way that is incomprehensible until he is looking at Harry. Because just by looking at the boy, Louis sees how  _ logical _ it is to be in love with him. 

You see, love  _ isn’t _ supposed to make sense, but Harry… Harry makes it plausible. Harry makes  _ love _ plausible, coherent, logical. Louis looks at him and thinks “yes, I’m in love”, because that’s what happens when you get to know someone like  _ him _ .You fall in love. With his face, with his body, with his history, with his whole personality — the way he cooks, the way he walks, the way he fights and screams, and the way smiles softly watching romcoms. The way he hugs and kisses and sleeps.

Louis is so deeply in love with him that just thinking about it makes his heart pick up, and he needs to detangle his body from the boy’s before he starts kissing him again. He won’t say this can’t happen  _ again _ , because God knows his willpower won’t help him that much until the end of June; still, he needs to avoid it as much as possible if he wants to keep himself  _ sort of _ clean.

 

Harry doesn’t stir awake when he gets up from the couch, and Louis goes straight into the shower, having a flight to catch in a bit. As much as he wants to say goodbye to the boy, he doesn’t have it in him to wake Harry up — he’s been working his ass off at school and at work, and whenever he can get some sleep, he deserves it.

Louis gets ready quickly, writes him a cute little note (sue him, he’s always wanted to do it), and flags a cab to Chicago’s international airport. He’s going home for a week and as much as it pains him to admit, some space between them is much needed at the moment.

 

-

 

“Don’t you look like hell?” Mark says as soon as Louis comes from the gate area. This time his father didn’t even leave the car, just waited on the airport sidewalk for him to come outside.

The weather in California is a lot better than what Louis left in Chicago, it being December and all, but it’s still cold, and the teacher doesn’t deal well with winter. His nose is already obstructed just from the plane ride and his head’s hurting, but he figures a hot shower and a cup of coffee from his mom will help him a lot.

He gets into the car rolling his eyes at his dad, but hugs him tight nevertheless, having missed the man more than he could explain. Louis loves his independence, he does, but he hates being away from his family. Phone calls and Skype sessions just aren’t the same, no matter what people say.

“Hi, Dad.” Louis says once their hug’s over.

“How was the flight?”

“Was alright, I’m not only looking like hell but feeling like it too.” He sniffles.

“Have you taken anything yet?”

“No, I was actually fine this morning? Go figure.” Louis shrugs. “Just wanna go home and warm up to be honest. Do we have to go anywhere?” He squints his eyes. Mark  _ always _ forgets to do his Christmas shopping in advance, and whenever Louis is in town he drags his son around to help him buy things for the  _ girls _ .

“I… Do.” Mark laughs. “But we can go home first, it’s fine.” His dad tells him. 

 

They drive home in comfortable silence while the radio plays different renditions of Christmas songs. Louis agrees that it is the most wonderful time of the year, and this year specifically he feels like he has more to celebrate than ever.

He’s leading a good life. Sure, there are some things that aren’t perfect, but even those are promising (namely: a certain Harry Styles in his life). Louis is doing great at his job, he’s becoming friends with James and he’s learning to trust Zayn more and more. Liam and Niall are also, undeniably, a huge part of his life, but that doesn’t mean his other friends are left behind.

Happily, he admits, it is easy for him to maintain people in his life, even when they live far away — and that includes not only Calvin and Oli, but also his sister, who is one of his best friends too. More than that, he couldn’t be emotionally closer to his parents if he tried. They’re the people he trusts the most.

While Johanna is the one who presses him for answers and is always talking, talking, talking, his dad knows when it’s time to be quiet for a bit. It’s actually one of Louis’ favorite things about Mark, how they can just sing and look out the window together, and still communicate in a way. Mark knows that he is happy, he knows why, and he knows Louis will talk to him eventually. 

 

They make it home in good time, and when Louis gets there the toddlers are already at the door waiting for him. He gets down on both knees and hugs his babies quickly, telling them he’s a bit sick and can’t be too close to them at the moment.

“What’s wrong with you, bub?” His mother asks, pulling him in a hug.

“It’s just a cold. Winter, planes… You know how I get.” He shrugs.

“You should take a hot shower and go to bed a bit.” She suggests.

“Yeah, I will. Where’s Lots?” It’s an afterthought, really. His sister should be here.

“In bed too, think she’s watching a movie.” 

“I’ll go talk to her…” Louis says and moves to grab his bag.

“I’ll take it, Son, don’t worry.” Mark tells him. 

“I can do it, Dad, thanks.” He smiles and slings it over his shoulder. 

“Lou can’t play outside?” Doris asks him as he’s climbing the stairs.

“Not now, little bean. Maybe tomorrow, yeah?” He’s got a smile on his face, but he really needs his bed.

“IN THE MORNING?” Ernest shows up by his side.

“Yeah, sure!” He chuckles. “Hey, let’s say hi to Lottie.” Louis tells them and they calm down a bit by his side. He knocks on the door and his sister groans from the inside. He guesses he can go in.

“You’re here, hello!” She smiles but doesn’t move.

“How are you?” Louis walks inside and stops by the bed, leaning down to kiss her forehead.

“Alright.”

“You don’t look alright.” He reasons.

“Broke up with a stupid boy.” His sister grimaces.

“Boys are aaaaall stupid, Lottie.” Doris pats her leg over the covers and both Charlotte and Louis smile fondly at her. Ernest pinches her arm. “OUCH.”

“Hey, no pinching!” Louis holds back both of his tiny wrists. “C’mon, bud, this isn’t nice.”

“She said I’m stupid.”

“She is right about all boys except you, Dad, and Lou. Okay?” Lottie ruffles his hair. The boy seems to think for a bit then takes off the room, running away.

Louis smiles and sits on the bed, Doris doing the same thing and perching herself on his lap. Apparently, saying that he is sick doesn’t keep them away, which, you know, makes him happy, if only a bit worried.

“I didn’t know you had a boyfriend, Lots. I mean, a new one.” The teacher says, tone careful.

“Apparently I didn’t,” she doesn’t look at him when she speaks. “I mean, it’s fine, I just-” the girl sighs. “I just need to watch this movie three times and then I’ll be fine, yeah?” 

Louis looks at the screen and  _ Love, Actually _ is on. He does not think of Harry. Nope.

“Yes. Yes, you’ll be fine.” He agrees. Then sneezes. “Jesus. Okay, munchkin,” he pokes Doris, “You go downstairs and find something to do, because I need to nap, okay?” Louis kisses her cheek and tickles her till she’s out of his lap. “I’ll leave you to it. We can cuddle later and eat garbage, yeah?” He checks with Charlotte.

“Yes to the garbage eating, but I’ll pass on the cuddles. I’m already sad, I don’t need to be sick too.” His sister replies.

“I hate you, Charlotte.”

“You love me.” He rolls his eyes, then gets up to leave.

“Hey. Updates on Harry?” She sort of asks.

“Later.”

“But you’re good?”

“Yes.” An involuntary smile spreads on his face. “We’re good.”

 

Louis goes into his bedroom and deposits his duffle on the ground, thanking the heavens that his saint of a mother changed his bedsheets and all he has to do is take off his jeans and shoes and get under the covers.

He grabs his phone then and sets an alarm for two hours for now. He just needs to nap. His shower will have to wait. Before falling asleep, though, he goes through his messages, and, as expected, Harry has texted:

**_Woke up cold and alone._ **

**_Have you landed yet?_ **

_ Sorry :( I’m home and about to fall asleep. Feeling poorly. Call you later?  _ He replies. Louis waits for a thumbs up from the other boy (followed by a string of hearts that do not make him smile like an idiot), and drifts into nothingness for the next few hours.

 

-

 

Louis’ two hour nap becomes a four hour one, and then he’s waking up with his mother bringing him tea and telling him to sit up before he falls asleep again. They talk amenities while she’s in the room, and soon enough Ernest appears asking if Louis is feeling better so they can  _ at least _ play video games.

“Sure, I’ll be in your room in a sec.” Louis promises him. “Thanks, Mom, this is great.” He says.

“You’re welcome, darling. Look, since your birthday is tomorrow, do you wanna go out or have people over? I could bake a cake or order one from that bakery you used to love…”

“They’ll be over whether I invite them or not, won’t they?” Louis chuckles.

“They’re your friends, so, yeah.” Johanna smiles. 

“Order the cake, don’t want you slaving in the kitchen.”

“Nonsense!”

“No, seriously. You’ll have to cook a big lunch on Christmas Day,” he reasons. “That bakery  _ is _ amazing, I won’t mind at all.” As soon as he finishes talking Ernest screams his name.

The boy is not even four yet, he couldn’t play well if he tried, but Louis still entertains him and gets up with his mom, walking towards his brother’s bedroom. 

All in all, it’s a good first day home. His nose is still bothering him, and his body’s lazy as fuck, but he’s got good people around, time to sleep, and a bunch of delicious food. He’ll survive. 

 

-

 

Christmas Day starts more calmly than every year before; this year it’ll only be the six of them, seeing as Louis’ alive grandparents (Johanna’s parents) decided to travel to Africa for the holiday. Yesterday was good. They threw a lunch party instead of a dinner one, and it worked perfectly with the time zone, because when it was six p.m., Harry was already ready to go to bed, and they could talk for almost two hours about everything and nothing.

Everything being how their days had been, what they had done, what they were looking forward to the most on the twenty-fifth. Nothing being that they had kissed; that they’d full on snogged on Louis’ couch and fell asleep together and then Louis left. They didn’t talk about it because neither was ready to do it, Louis thinks.

He still doesn’t know what to say to the boy after it all happened. Louis can’t say he’s been thinking about it nonstop, being borderline creepy about it, owing to the fact that he wants to do it again and again and again. That’d be incredibly inappropriate. (Which is ironic since they’ve crossed the  _ appropriate _ line so long ago Louis can’t even remember.) 

However, he can’t say  _ let’s just forget it,  _ either. That’d be heartless and would send the message that Louis doesn’t care much about him at all when it’s the absolute opposite thing. So, he’s in a pickle, he remains talking about  _ everything and nothing _ , staying as far away as the subject as possible.

Harry hints at the possibility of them spending New Year’s Eve together, and the teacher needs to shoot him down, saying that he’s already promised Zayn he’d spend it with him. Harry gets hopeful for two seconds, before he realizes Louis is not going to invite him to tag along this time. He can’t. Out of all the things happening to them and around them right now, Zayn finding out about Louis’ feelings is definitely something Louis cannot handle.

 

“Louis, you there?” He hears his mother’s voice distantly, then focuses on her face.

“Sorry, Mom. You were saying…?” Louis grabs his mug of hot chocolate, but it’s already lukewarm.

“Nothing,” Jay replies. “You seemed to be wandering in your thoughts.”

“I’m a bit sleepy, ’s all.” He brushes it off. 

“You should take a nap before dinner, then.” Jay suggests.

“No, I’m okay.”

It takes her a few seconds to analyze him, and then:

“How’s Harry?” She asks him, a smile playing on her face.

Louis sort of snorts.

“He’s fine.”

“Anything more you wanna tell me?”

“No.” He groans, buries his face in his hands. To her credit, Jay turns around to the stove, focusing on whatever she’s cooking — it smells good. “We kissed.”

“Louis!” Jay turns around, both hands covering her mouth in surprise, eyes almost bugging out of her face.

“I know, alright?” The teacher replies defensively. “I’m all kinds of disgusting and I said I wouldn’t do it, but then I did, which makes me a  _ liar _ too, which-”

“Oh, shut your trap, will ya?” His mom comes towards him, places a hand on top of his on the countertop. “You’ve finally come to your senses then.” She says more softly. “Louis, it’s okay.”

“It’s not, Mom. Don’t make it sound like it’s okay. He’s my student for fuck’s sake.” Louis looks at her. “They threw me a birthday party, we were tipsy, he slept over and he- he’s so bloody cute it’s infuriating. Nothing else happened, nothing major.”  _ Except the cuddling; the sleeping together _ . “Yet I feel like I took advantage of him when it-” Louis sighs, “when it’s the last thing I want to do, really.”

“Baby, I know.” She hugs him sideways. “And so does he. He has  _ feelings _ for you too, Lou.”

“Mom, how would you feel if Lottie was dating her professor?” Louis looks at her. Jay is taken aback for a second there. “Right. So. It doesn’t  _ matter _ how we feel. The situation is all kinds of wrong.”

“You’re not all kinds of disgusting. And you’re not a liar. Circumstances just fucking suck right now.” Jay rubs his arm.

“Did you just curse?” He chuckles.

“Oh yeah, because cursing in front of my twenty-five year old son is going to set a bad example.” She snorts and goes back to the stove, checks up on the food. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry, you know? You just gotta get through the next few months.”

“Six more months.” The teacher says more to himself than to his mom.

“You can do it. You’re in love with him, aren’t ya?”

“Yes. So much it hurts.” When he admits it, he doesn’t look at her. He can’t.

“You can do it.” His mother repeats and that’s the end of the discussion.

 

-

 

The week between Christmas and New Year’s Eve is one of the most challenging weeks of Louis’ life. He tries to beat anxiety in many different ways: drinking, watching the kids, consoling Lottie, even playing pool with his dad, but when it comes down to it, Louis just really wants to go back home, and that’s… A new concept.

When in Chicago, Louis couldn’t wait till he got to California; he was just dying to be in San Francisco because he was sure the weather would be better (it is), and that he was going to feel more comfortable this way. When he was in Chicago, he thought he was coming  _ home _ for the holidays.

But now that he is here, he’s realizing that  _ home  _ is back in Illinois. Somehow, in the past year, the unforgiving cold, the thousand feet high buildings, and the black coffees Chicago has to offer him warmed their way into his heart, captivated him in a way that makes him  _ miss _ the place when he is away.

The realization only makes him want to go back there sooner. The teacher anticipates his flight home for a couple of days and apologizes to his family, but on the twenty-ninth of December, he boards a flight back and prays that Liam will get his message when he wakes up and will be there at the airport to pick him up. 

His parents send him off with hugs and kisses, Lottie and the children pout, and they all promise to pay him a visit on Easter. After all, it’s their turn to come to Louis — or so Mark convinces them. (Louis knows he just really wants to watch a Chicago Bulls game in their home court. He can’t blame his father.)

 

“What are you doing here two days earlyr?” Liam, who  _ did _ get his message and came to pick him up, asks, without any other introduction.

“Good to see you too, Lima.” He jokes. “Hope your holiday was great, mine was fine too. And yes, I know I don’t look a day older.”

“Cut the crap, Louis.” The police officer rolls his eyes and offers to carry Louis’ duffle. Louis lets him, because out of the many things he’s known for, carrying his own things (or any kind of weight really) isn’t one of them. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, Liam, everything’s fine. I just- don’t know, sort of missed Chicago.”

“Chicago,” Liam snorts. “Yeah.” To that, Louis does not have a reply. “Care to accompany me somewhere now or are you too tired?”

“Where?”

“Somewhere where you’re going to be in touch with  _ Chicago _ again.” Is all he answers before they reach his car.

Liam came in a police vehicle, for crying out loud, and smiles sideways when Louis looks at him strangely.

“You could’ve brought my car. I told you where the keys were.”

“We kind of need mine for where we’re going.” He replies.

“Care to clarify?”

“If I must.” The officer sighs. “Every year the station chooses a charity to help around the holidays. We usually stick with them though the whole year. This is the last time we’re going to this one, and I think you’re gonna like it.”

“Sick.” Louis smiles.

“We’re just going to make a quick stop to pick Rita up if that’s okay.

“Sure.”

“Welcome home, Lou.” Liam tells him.

Home. Yeah.

“Thank you.” Louis responds.

He shoots his family a text to let them know he’s back and he also texts Niall and Harry on their group chat (yes, they have a group chat now), but since only Niall replies, he guesses he’ll be talking to Harry later.

 

-

 

As it turns out, the police force this year chose to help a  _ kids _ charity, more specifically, young girls on the street. According to Liam, those are kids and teens who were either mistreated and abandoned by their parents, who were put in the system since a very young age and have no one else to care for them.

There’s a lady that, about eight years ago, opened her house and her heart to take care of them. There are around sixteen girls, from seven to fourteen years old, who not only live there but are also homeschooled by Miss Helena, a fifty year old lady who’s struggling to handle bills and still keep their lives good and balanced.

Louis is in love with the place the second he sees it. Louis recognizes the neighborhood because it’s just outside Fuller Park — where Harry lives —, but he’s never noticed the house before. It looks like it’s from the movies, or maybe from A Series of Unfortunate Events (only, you know, well decorated and not creepy), a fading pink on the outside and wooden gates, maybe two or three floors.

As they go in, Liam explains to him that Miss Helena inherited a respectable sum of money from her parents, but taking care of sixteen girls is not only time but also  _ money _ consuming, and since this isn’t a foster home, legally speaking, she doesn’t get any help from the government. Louis would’ve liked to come here earlier. As it is, he’s happy to be here now.

 

It’s like a party’s going on. There are Christmas lights and Taylor Swift playing, and it’s loud. There are about ten police officers here — Louis knows a few of them, from the bar — and some other people he doesn’t recognize.

Liam introduces him to Miss Helena and whilst Louis goes for a handshake, the woman full on hugs him.

“Thanks for coming, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” The woman says, a kind but tired smile on her face.

“Honestly, wish I’d known about this place earlier.” He replies.

“A friend of Liam is a friend of ours. Go meet the girls. I’m going to get you something to eat. Are you hungry, dear?” She asks.

“I don’t want to be impolite, but yes, I actually am. Just got off of a flight.”

“Oh, poor man, that horrible airplane food, go, mingle, sit, I’ll bring you something in an instant.” She smiles and walks away quickly.

Louis spots where Rita is talking to a couple of girls and walks over to introduce himself. They’re Suzy and Katie, eight and ten, respectively.

“Very pretty names for very pretty girls.” Louis tells them. “Are you enjoying today?”

“Yes, very much.” Suzy is eager when she answers.

“Why didn’t we see you before?” Katie questions him, a hand playing with the hem of his jacket. Rita raises an eyebrow at Louis.

“You see, Liam Payne, he’s my friend, but this is the first time he’s told me about this place.” Louis explains calmly.

“Hmmm, are you going to come again?” Katie, again, makes the question.

“If you guys like me and want me to then yes, sure.” He smiles.

“It depends, do you know how to braid girls hair?” Suzy is the one to ask him now.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I’m the best at it!” Rita chuckles at that and excuses herself, going to talk to another group of girls. These ones pay her no mind, too focused on talking to Louis now.

“That’s impossible, Mr. Harry is the best at it,” Suzy points at him with a wide grin on her face, like she’s saying  _ gotcha _ . 

“Mr. Harry-?” He starts asking, but then-

“Hi, Lou.” Comes Harry’s voice behind him. “Brought you chicken soup. Made it myself, I hope you like it.” 

“Wha- what?” He frowns.

“Mr. Harry, the soup is so great, thank you so much!” Another girl comes their direction, she looks about thirteen. She hugs Harry tight and Louis takes the soup bowl out of his hand before he burns himself.

“You’re welcome, Tania.” Harry hugs her back. “What about you, girls, did you like it?”

“It’s perfect, as always.” Suzy says, matter-of-factly. “Mr. Harry, do you know Louis?”

“Yes, Louis is a friend of mine.” The boy grins at them.

“I thought he was friends with Liam?” Katie checks.

“I’m friends with a lot of people,” Louis himself says and smiles. “I’m very friendly, you know.”

“And he  _ is _ the best at braiding. In fact, he was the one who taught me how to braid in the first place.” He tells them as if it’s a secret.

“Really?” They both widen their eyes.

“Really. After all, Harry’s hair is  _ great  _ to braid, isn’t it?” Louis asks them.

“We’ve never tried.” Suzy confesses.

“What? But that’s just outrageous!”

And that’s how Louis sits to eat his chicken soup (that is amazing, yes), while the girls make Harry stay there, sitting too, so they can braid his princess hair.

Everyone gathers around them eventually. Louis meets everyone and hangs out with different groups, but when dessert comes around, he knows he’s already picked favorites — Katie, and the oldest one, the fourteen year old, whose name is Rosa. Her parents were immigrants and they both died because of police brutality; when Louis hears her story, it is difficult for him not to cry.

 

Around four p.m., some of the girls say thank you and bye bye, going upstairs for a nap. Some others stay back to help Harry in the kitchen and play board games by the fireplace. Most of the police officers are gone by now too, only Liam and three other people stick around, another guy and two other women — all with their partners.

Louis asks Miss Helena if he can go out to her front porch to have a smoke or if that would be bad, but the woman simply tells him  _ give me a second and I’ll join you _ . 

 

“It’s amazing, what you’re doing here.” He comments after his first drag.

“Never got married, never had kids. Those girls are my life.” The woman sighs.

“From what I gather, the only reason they have a life in the first place is because of you. So, you know, congratulations.” Louis tells her truthfully.

“Thank you, Louis. You’re more than welcome to come back, even without Liam.” Miss Helena offers.

“No need to thank me. And yes, I think I will.” He smiles.

They smoke two cigarettes each. The silence is peaceful between them. It’s really fucking cold now, the snow is getting heavier and Louis doesn’t know exactly how they’ll drive home, he’s just really thankful that Liam knows how to drive on black ice.

He doesn’t know how much time passes till Harry comes to find them. He’s wearing a thousand layers and a beanie too, but the second he steps outside his nose gets red. The whole  _ too cute  _ thing Louis mentioned before? It’s exponential now.

 

“Oh, there you are!” The boy says. “Liam and I were looking for you. We’re going, thought you’d like to say bye to the girls.”

“Absolutely, yes!” Louis replies and puts out his cigarette. 

Miss Helena goes inside with them, and Louis starts his round of goodbyes. Everyone hugs him, and that makes him feel a bit warmer in the winter.

He is invited to a group picture to which he agrees rapidly, and then they’re all on their way out. Liam offers to give Harry a ride, and only when they get into the car does Louis notice that he and Harry haven’t talked at all. 

 

They’re much closer to Fuller Park, and Harry could easily go home earlier, to his own bed, to his mom and his comfort, but when Liam asks  _ so Harry, where to? _ , the boy is quick to reply: “Louis’.”

 

Rita is also going to stay at Liam’s, so it’s a fast ride to their building. Harry and Liam chat a lot about Miss Helena and the girls, and Liam tells Harry that even though they’ll be moving on to another charity next year, it’d be great if he kept going there. Harry tells him that he promised Miss Helena to go back at least twice a week, once during the day, and once at night. 

They all go into the elevator together and part ways when the doors open. Rita and Louis hug, and she enters her boyfriend’s apartment with a  _ see you soon, guys _ — because she’s also going to Zayn’s New Year’s Eve party, and she thinks Harry will too. But Harry won’t. Because Harry  _ isn’t _ Louis’ boyfriend.

Liam hugs him too, and whispers in his year that he  _ isn’t judging _ . Louis doesn’t reply, but makes a mental note to talk to him later. The police officer hugs Harry too, and it’s such an apparent change from when the man brought him to Louis’ months and months ago, all beaten up and aggressive. Harry smiles big, wishes Liam a happy new year, and lets the elevator doors close.

 

It isn’t weird that he’s come home with Louis. He’s done it before. But between Louis flying back today and still having his duffle, going with Liam to an unknown place and meeting Harry there, to Harry coming back to Louis’ place with him, he hasn’t even had time to process things.

The boy doesn’t seem to notice anything’s out of order. He turns on the lights the way he always does, leaves his shoes by the door, places his coat on the armchair and turns to Louis.

“D’you want me to put these in the wash for you?” He offers, pointing to Louis’ duffle bag.

“Nah, you seem to have had a full day. I know I did.” Louis dismisses it.

“I did, but I’m not tired, it’s barely seven,” Harry smiles. “Just go take a shower and you’ll feel better. I’ll do laundry meanwhile.” The boy says and moves to get Louis’ bag from him. Louis tightens his fist around the strap and holds it closer to his body. “Lou, c’mon.” The boy calls his name softly. “Don’t make this weird. I’ve done your laundry a thousand times.” Louis can see Harry is putting a lot of effort into not rolling his eyes.

“I feel weird.” He confesses.

“We can talk about it after you’ve showered then.” Harry smiles. “C’mon.” He repeats softly.

Louis lets go of the strap and sighs. Harry brushes his fringe out of his forehead and for only a second the teacher allows himself to close his eyes; the boy kisses his left cheek and then walks away with Louis’ duffle bag in his hands.

The teacher does what he’s supposed to: he goes into his bedroom, gets some warm, homey clothes, then proceeds into the bathroom, where he takes a fifteen minute long shower. He feels the hot water undo some of the knots on his back, and whilst he’s avoiding getting his hair wet, the rolls his neck under the spray, making sure he’s relaxed to go back out there.

Harry makes him feel so much just by being in his presence, and when they’re being this domestic, it is incredibly tough for him to think of anything other than  _ them _ . Fuck him. He’s so in love with his eighteen year old student.  _ Soon to be nineteen _ , he remembers. Oh Lord.

 

When he makes it back to the living room, Harry’s already dimmed the lights, opened the couch and has the TV on, a Brooklyn 99 episode paused, as if he’s waiting for Louis to get here so they can watch together. 

“You didn’t tell me you’d been visiting a charity house.” Louis voices as soon as he sits by his side on the couch.

“You didn’t talk to me about our kiss.” Harry replies.

“Not the same thing.” He points out.

“Let’s take one topic at a time, then.” The boy offers. Seeing that his teacher won’t say anything else, he turns on his side and focuses on Louis. 

It’s always difficult to have a conversation under Harry’s insistent gaze; his green eyes burn Louis’ skin whenever they’re this close. At times, looking into Harry’s eyes feels like one of the most intimate things the man has ever done. 

“It was the week after Liam brought me to you for the first time.” Harry starts explaining. “I was walking by that area while Liam was making rounds. He stopped the car by my side and I thought he was gonna arrest me again; granted, I still had pot on me— for recreational use, but still.” He sort of chuckles. Louis didn’t know Harry  _ smoked _ pot. He curses himself for thinking this is  _ nice _ and that they could do it together someday, just like they smoked cigarettes. They can’t and they won’t. “He just asked me where I was going and it turns out I wasn’t going anywhere. Literally and figuratively. He caught onto it sort of like you did, and offered me a ride  _ somewhere _ .

You seemed to trust Liam and I was beginning to trust you, so,” the boy shrugs. “I got into the car with him, and he took me to meet Miss Helena and the girls. After that I kind of just kept on going there. Even took my mom, after my dad died.”

“Why-” Louis starts, voice hoarse. “Why did you never tell me?”

He’s feeling a bit betrayed, and it must be written all over his face.

“You know so much about me, Louis. Too much.” He all but accuses, looking down. “You know  _ everything _ about me. Every ugly thing, every- every moment of anger or happiness or sadness, every  _ soft _ action, you-” Harry sighs exasperatedly. “At the beginning I didn’t say anything because it was fun to hide it? Which seems stupid now. But with time it was just- I needed something for myself. I needed somewhere where I wouldn’t- I don’t know, think of you.

It gets… Unbearable, sometimes, thinking of you. Wanting you and- and whenever I went there it felt like I could breathe. It felt like I could  _ be _ someone without you. I needed that.” He looks down. “You have every right to feel betrayed, and I’m sorry for being so-”

“H, no.” Louis places a hand on his knee, his thumb drawing soft circles over the heavy, dark-blue jeans. “I get it. I promise. Now I get it.” He says. “I’m sorry I make you feel, I don’t know, bad?”

“Bad is the  _ last _ thing you make me feel, Louis.” Harry looks up at him. “And you  _ know _ that. There are many things that I still have to sort out with myself. And I’m still getting over some things that have happened to me in the past, but…  _ You _ have made it a lot easier for me to move on, and I’m truly thankful for what we have. I’m thankful for everything you’ve ever done for me… The long talks, the drinks you let me drink and the cigarettes we smoked together, you know. I’m always going to thank you for listening to me when I was breaking down and didn’t even know I needed to be heard.  _ For bringing the sun with you during the times I was drowning in rain. _ ” He finishes with a soft sigh.

“H.”

“But not being able to do anything about the way I feel about you almost kills me sometimes.”

“I know.” It’s Louis who averts his eyes this time. “I’m sorry for that.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“It is. Because I got too close. I let my feelings-”

“ _ Don’t _ apologize for having feelings for me,  _ please _ . That’ll hurt.” Harry whispers. 

They hold hands for a few seconds. Louis lets Harry entwine their fingers and tighten his grip. 

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the way you kiss since last week,” Louis confesses. “I even told my mother about it,” he laughs but there’s no humor to it. “I feel disgusting, H. I feel like I took advantage of you, I-”

“How many times do I have to say you are so  _ not _ doing that?” Harry grabs Louis’ face between his hands and makes him stare right into his eyes again. “If it were up to me we would’ve fucked seven ways to Sunday by now, and you  _ know _ that.”

“But it’s  _ not _ up to you. It’s up to  _ me _ to be responsible, and an adult, and-”

“Here we go again.” Harry rolls his eyes.

“I am your fucking teacher, Harry.” Louis breaks out of his grip, raising his voice.

“And I’m fucking in _love_ with you, Louis!”  Harry raises his too. “I just told you I sometimes can’t _breathe_ because I’m thinking of you, what do you think that means? Fucking hell.” The boy gets up. “ _I am_ _ass over tits in love with you._ ” The boy says. “Your turn.” He crosses his arm in front of Louis. 

The teacher looks up.

“I’m not kissing you again until you graduate, and that’s it. We’re not drinking together, and we’re not cuddling on the couch. This  _ can’t _ happen again for the next five months, are we clear?” He speaks up, tone definite. “Are we, H?” Louis gets up. They’re so close.

“ _ Why  _ are you doing this?”

“Because, Harry Styles, next time I touch you we’re both going to be stone cold sober, and I’m gonna ravish you.” He replies, lightly as ever. “Now. Are we clear?”

Harry swallows hard.

“Yes.”

“Good.” Louis smiles, then sits down on the couch. “Now press play.”

 

-

 

On New Year’s Eve, Louis lasts two hours at Zayn and Perrie’s house party before he texts Harry, asking where he is. 

**_Navy Pier, next to the ferris wheel._ **

Louis makes it there in good time, and he finds Harry when it’s fifteen minutes to midnight. He can’t believe this romcom bullshit, honestly. If a year ago someone told Louis he’d be running through Navy Pier on the thirty-first of December, going after a boy he’s not even allowed to kiss, just because his face is the only thing he wants to see starting a new cycle, he’d laugh, and probably punch that person for lying to him about something so serious.

Yet, here he is. He finds Harry all bundled up in a coat and scarves and holding a cotton candy in one hand, while the other slaps a guy on the back. They say hello, and then Harry introduces him to his new group of friends — two guys and three girls from work. They seem nice enough. Louis says hello and makes polite conversation, but when it’s five to midnight, he shares Harry’s candy and brings the boy’s attention all to himself.

 

“I feel like I’m in a movie now.” Harry tells him, holding Louis close by the waist.

“Yeah, thought the same while I was literally running towards you,” the man laughs, both hands holding Harry’s jacket lapels.

“You know, it’s going to be midnight in like- two minutes. If this was a movie, we’d kiss while fireworks exploded.” He winks.

“Cheeky.” Louis actually pinches his cheeks for good measure. “This isn’t a movie. But it’s as good as it gets right now.”

“Yes.” Harry sighs with a happy sound. “Yes, it is.” 

Soon enough, people start the countdown. It’s so, so noisy. Louis thinks his ears might actually explode when everyone around them screams  _ happy new year _ , but then Harry’s hugging him, burying his face in the crook of his neck and laughing, just  _ laughing _ a lot.

Louis looks at him and it’s the happiest both of them have been thus far.  Harry hugs him again and yells in his ear: _“I’M FEELING ALL MY FUCKING FEELINGS RIGHT NOW.”_

Louis laughs hard once again.

“Harry Styles!” He says his name, pronouncing every syllable carefully. “Harry Styles, look at me.” He orders. Harry does. “I am, too,  _ ass over tits in love with you _ .” Louis finally says. “And when the time comes, I’m going to make you the happiest person in the universe.”

Harry Styles throws his head back in laughter one more time, then, when he looks at Louis, in only a whisper, he says: “You already do.”

Louis turns around and glues his back to Harry’s front, and together they watch the fireworks paint Chicago’s sky. The teacher breathes in, breathes out, closes his eyes for a few seconds and asks the universe to forgive him for the wrong things he’s done, the things he has been doing. But he also asks for protection — for him, for his family, his friends, and his boy.

He lets Harry hold him, looks at the sky once again, and thanks whatever gods may be for this moment right here. And for the ones that are still to come. Because now Louis knows… This is only the beginning. 

  
  



	14. STRAWBERRIES AND CIGARETTES

 

 

**_"Remember when you taught me fate? Said it’d all be worth the wait."_ **

 

 

It’s in mid January that Harry barges into Louis’ classroom and stops one of his lectures because he  _ needs _ to tell him something.

By now, more than half of the school knows their relationship is different and that the teacher has a soft spot for him, yet no one dares to mention it, because 1) they still respect/fear Harry, and 2) James has shot down any rumors that might have come up at the teachers meeting before classes started again this term.

This is a class of freshmen, so Louis doesn’t think they know much about Harry Styles. Still, the second his face shows at the door, all eyes turn to him.

“Mr. Styles, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Louis asks from his spot, half sitting  _ on _ his desk. He crosses both hands on the front of his body, a relaxed expression on his face.

Harry looks radiant. It takes everything in Louis not to run to him and give him a hug.

“I thought you’d like to know I’m on the short list for a full ride scholarship to MIT  _ and _ UCLA.” He smiles lightly. “That’s it, have a good morning, Mr. Tomlinson!” The boy waves with a sadistic smile on his face now, and walks away.

Louis needs to breathe in and out a few times before he manages to go back to teaching.

 

He finds Harry around lunchtime, leaning against his locker talking to two girls Louis remembers teaching last year.

“Styles. A word.” He all but screams from where he’s standing. Not many heads turn.

Harry sees him and starts walking his direction immediately, but Louis turns around and walks back to his classroom. He knows Harry is following.

 

“So,” the boy starts when he closes the door behind him.

“Open the door.” Louis sighs. Staying indoors with Harry at the school is never a good idea. It’s not because people aren’t  _ talking _ that Louis won’t be careful. Harry complies and does it. “Congratulations are in order, I suppose.” He says, a smirk on his face.

Louis is sitting on his chair, at his desk, holding himself there not to hug Harry again. He doesn’t think he’d be able to let him go.

“Thanks, Lou.” The boy replies softly. “I feel like I’m dreaming.”

The teacher smiles at him, knows the skin beside his eyes is crinkling.

“Have you told Anne?” He asks.

“No, not yet.” Harry moves closer, stands across from him, the wooden desk between them. “Short list doesn’t mean I’m getting anywhere; don’t want her to be disappointed.”

“Short list is enough of a reason for her to be proud of you, Hazz. For a lifetime, dare I say.” Louis offers him.

“I just have to wait a couple more weeks. I should know by my birthday where I’m going. If I’m going anywhere at all.” He shrugs.

“You will.” The teacher is so, so sure. Universities love an underdog story. “UCLA, uh?” He asks. 

“Zayn said I should apply to other colleges with good math programs. I thought I’d surprise you.” Harry smiles to himself. 

“What did you apply for?” 

“Mathematics.  _ Home to world-renowned faculty, a highly ranked graduate program, and a large and diverse body of undergraduate majors, the department is truly one of the best places in the world to do mathematics _ … I sort of memorized their whole website.” The student chuckles. “I’ve also been asking Lottie about how things are around there. I think I’d like it a lot.”

“Who in their right mind would take UCLA over MIT, H?” Louis looks at him exasperatedly.

“Someone that’s in love with a Californian guy, whose family is only a couple hours away from the university. Also, someone who’s really tired of this shit weather.” He chuckles.

“H.”

“I’m not-” he tries to explain. “I’m not hoping you’ll move wherever because of me, Louis. I know you’ve learned to love Chicago. But I’m- if there’s a way to make things easier, I’m going to.” Harry shrugs. 

“Cali’s still on the other side of the country.”

“You’d only need to take one plane to see me and your family.” The student reasons. “C’mon, Lou. Indulge me here.” He smiles a little. Louis does too.

“I worry you’re choosing this for all the wrong reasons.” The teacher confesses.

“Lou.” Harry sighs. “The only reason I even  _ have _ choices is because of you. Hadn’t it been for you, I could be dead now.” Louis winces when he says it, because he knows it’s true. “I’m not saying never to MIT; now that I’ve started dreaming of actually being someone… There’s conferences, summer courses, a  _ masters degree _ … Hell, like I said, short list doesn’t mean I’m getting into these schools in the first place. But if I  _ do _ have a choice, you need to know that I’m going to make the one that’ll make our lives easier.”

“This is the worst place to have this conversation.” Louis decides.

“You were the one who called me,” Harry accuses, but he’s laughing.

“Well, you were the one who came into my classroom and completely fucked my day over. I couldn’t think of anything else.” He looks down again. “I’m really proud of you, you know? And in two weeks it’s going to be official and your mom’s gonna text me inviting me for a celebratory dinner. I just know.”

“Hope so.” Their hands touch over a notebook. “Thank you.” Harry squeezes Louis’ hand in his.

“You’re welcome.” Louis replies.

 

-

 

On the thirty-first of January, Louis gets a text from Anne inviting him for a dinner party for Harry the next day. It’s not only his birthday they are going to be celebrating.

 

-

 

“Lou, let’s go out tonight, please.” Zayn asks him, slinging an arm over his shoulder as they walk out of school together.

“Can’t, sorry.” He answers.

“Got a hot date? Finally!” The math teacher throws his arms to the sky.

“No, you idiot.” He rolls his eyes. “It’s Harry’s birthday.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. And I’m sure he’s told you, but he got into UCLA, so his mom’s throwing him a dinner party.” Louis explains.

“He did, I’m so happy for him…” Zayn comments. “So. He applied and got into UCLA.”

“Yeah.”

“Louis.” Zayn stops walking when they reach Louis’ car. The teacher unlocks the door and gets into it. Zayn just turns around and does the same. It’s still too cold for him to ride his motorcycle, so Louis’ been giving him rides. “Harry’s got a crush on you.” The way Zayn says it, it’s revealing. Or, at least, he thinks it is.

If Louis were drinking something right now, he’d spill it.

“Zayn.” He calls his name seriously after his laughter dies down. “Are you honestly just realizing that?”

“I didn’t want to assume.” Zayn shrugs.

“We-”

“No.” He stops him.

“But we-”

“Louis, no!”

“There’s nothing going on!” He rushes to say. “Well, that’s not entirely true.”

“ _ A teacher student relationship is forbidden, for fuck’s sake! You could be fired! You could go to jail!” _

“Considering the fact that Liam is my  _ neighbor _ , no, I don’t think I could, otherwise he would’ve thrown me in there long ago. I mean, I think he knows. He has to.” Louis considers.

“Knows  _ what _ , exactly?”

“That I’m in love with my student?” He looks at him. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t say anything before, okay? I knew this would happen.”

“What the fuck?”

“Perrie suspected.” Louis points out. “I thought she would’ve mentioned it to you by now.”

“You’re  _ in love  _ with him? You  _ love _ him?” The math teacher asks, gobsmacked.

“Is it really that surprising?” He asks back. Zayn fish mouths and keeps quiet. “It happened so slowly. A few people realized it before I did. Even Harry himself.” He smiles reminiscing. “We aren’t in a relationship. I care too much about  _ him _ and about my job to do something like that. It’s been  _ hell _ , but.” Louis sighs. “We’ve crossed a thousand lines, Zayn, enough to have me fired, I’m sure. But I just-”

“You love him.” Zayn repeats, softer this time.

“So much.” He looks at his friend. “At first it was like- really fucking scary. I was creeped out by my own self, the whole age gap and stuff.”

“He’s nineteen today, you’re what, five years older than him?”

“Six.”

“’S not that creepy, dude.”

“It felt like it was for me. Because of the circumstances and all, but also- the circumstances show me that also… Harry’s not a normal eight-  _ nineteen _ year old, is he?”

“Definitely not.”

“Yeah.” He breathes out. “So, he went and applied to UCLA, without telling me, I might add. He wanted to, and I quote,  _ surprise me _ .” Louis cries out the last part. “He’s-”

“He’s in love with you too.” Zayn tells him. “A fucking fairytale love story if I’ve ever seen one.” He chuckles. “Bet you two can’t wait for graduation day.”

“You’ve no idea.”

“So, is that why you’ve been living a life of celibacy for months now?” The math teacher teases him.

“Sort of? I mean. I don’t really wanna be with anyone else. I don’t even  _ look _ at anyone else. Haven’t for a long time.”

“That’s why you and Nick didn’t work out.” Zayn states.

“Probably, yes.”

They drive in silence the rest of the way, the radio softly playing  _ The End of the World _ by Julie London, and Louis thinks Harry was the one to add it to his playlist. That boy likes so many obscure songs, Jesus Christ.

When they get to Zayn’s apartment, the math teacher asks Louis if he can crash Harry’s birthday party, and Louis says  _ why the hell not _ . Harry invited Liam and Rita, and Niall, so Louis tells Zayn not to act like a weirdo and he should be fine. Also, Louis texts the boy to check with him. But it’s all good.

 

And it is. Except for the fact that, apparently, today’s the day everyone’s decided to talk to Louis about his feelings.

They all go to Harry’s house together.

Even though the situation in his neighborhood is a bit better now, it’s still dangerous to drive around there, but according to Harry, both Mark and Jeff are warned that people are coming to his house to celebrate his birthday, so they feel a bit calmer.

Liam and Rita go with Niall in his car, and Zayn and Perrie take a cab to Louis’ place, where they ride in his car too.

When they get there, the neighborhood is quiet and dark, like always. Only this time, when Louis stops in front of Harry’s place, he sort of freezes once he notices Mark and Jeff there. Not for himself, but for Liam. They know Liam is a cop. Fuck.

 

Liam turns off the car but doesn’t get out. Smart.

“Who are they?” Zayn asks, voice low, as if the men would hear him through the closed windows.

“Mark and Jeff. They’re kind of the bosses around here.”

“The fuck are they doing there?” Perrie does the follow-up.

“Let’s find out,” he says and opens the door. He hears Zayn scream-whispering for him to stay inside, but walks towards them anyways.

 

“Evening.” He greets them, hands in his pockets.

Harry’s door is ajar and as soon as Louis steps closer, Harry steps out.

“Lou.” He says.

“Mr. T.” Mark calls his name. “Long time no see.” He smiles.

“Yeah, uh-”

“Just get it over with, Mark.” Harry closes his eyes and sighs.

Then Mark steps closer to Louis, and before the teacher can do anything, he  _ hugs _ him. Yes. Drug-dealer, gang boss Mark hugs Louis.

It takes him a few seconds to hug him back. It’s weird.

“Thank you, Mr. T.” He says. “ _ Thank you _ .” Mark then pats his back.

After him, Jeff does the same. Louis is awestruck.

“We’ve always known this boy was different,” Jeff comments. 

“He’s officially the first one to get out of this hellhole.” Mark continues.

“And that’s thanks to you.” Jeff again.

“It was all him.” Louis manages to speak out.

“No, it wasn’t. It was a lot of  _ you,  _ too.” Harry says.

Louis shrugs.

“Hope you have a good birthday and a nice night with your friends, Harry.” Mark stretches his hand for Harry to shake. “Congrats on going to college, kid.”

“Thanks, Mark. I appreciate it.”

“And Mr. T., tell your cop friend to get out of the car. We won’t mess with him if he won’t mess with us.” Jeff warns, he waves to Liam’s car. Liam opens the door. “Officer Payne, it’s a good night, isn’t it?” He asks.

“It is.” Liam answers, stepping out, Rita gets out of the car too. Then Niall.

Mark looks at him, but doesn’t say anything.

“We’re going then. Take care.” He shakes Harry’s hand again, then pulls him in for a hug, goes in uncomfortably. Then the same happens with Jeff.

It’s only five minutes later that everyone gets to go in. Both Perrie and Niall are still a bit weird because of what they saw, Rita seems fine, but Zayn actually  _ laughs _ . He hugs Harry tight and wishes him the happiest of birthdays. Harry smiles strangely at him, so Louis helps him out by whispering in his ear:  _ He knows. _

 

Everyone who doesn’t know Anne is introduced to her, and, a while later, people from Harry’s job arrive too. They bring gifts and decoration for a party, and ask Louis for help — they’re the same ones who were at the pier on New Year’s Eve, so Louis is familiar with them albeit not remembering all of their names.

Harry looks so, so happy. And so does Anne. They’re both chatty and Anne actually spends a long time laughing with Niall. Louis has never seen her laugh that much, and Harry says it’s been a while since he’s seen it too. But that’s Niall for you. Literally no one is sad for long when they’re next to him.

Before dinner is served, Anne pulls Louis into the kitchen. She shows him she made lasagna, because Harry mentioned it was one of Louis’ favorite dishes. Louis doesn’t know what to say.

“You saved my son’s life, Louis.” Anne comments. 

“People keep saying that and I… I don’t know what to say,” he replies honestly. “It wasn’t a hardship. It’s not difficult, you know, to  _ care _ about people. To have  _ empathy _ .”

“It is. You’re just too good.” She smiles kindly. “Is that all it is, though? Empathy?”

“Anne…”

“Harry’s so in love with you, the poor boy.” The woman comments. “At the beginning, when he started changing and just wouldn’t shut up about you, I thought it was some sort of hero worship, you know? But the way he  _ looks _ at you, Louis.”

“I’m sorry, I-”

“I’m not angry. I mean, I  _ won’t _ be unless you tell me you don’t reciprocate his feelings.” She chuckles.

“I- I do. Reciprocate his feelings, that is. I-” He looks at her. “When the time comes, when the time is  _ right _ , I’m going to love him like he deserves.” Louis swallows. “I promise.” The last few words are whispered. He’s a bit embarrassed, sue him.

“I’m sure you will.” She squeezes his hand.

“May I know what’s going on here?” Harry enters the room. 

“No, you may not.” Anne replies. “Now, help me set the table. Louis, can you help with the plates?”

“Sure!”

They eat and they talk and they have fun. Harry’s work friends invent a trivia game and Liam gets so competitive he even yells  _ in your face  _ at his girlfriend. Louis and Perrie lost on the first round, and now are sitting and watching everyone else lose their shit over it.

It pisses him off, because right after he leaves they make a round of  _ TV Shows  _ and he knows he’d be great at it, but now his hope lies on Harry and Niall.

Liam and Zayn eliminate Rita and Anne. Then Harry and Niall eliminate a duo of Harry’s friends. Then another. And they win.

“You won because they let you!” Perrie accuses, throwing a napkin at him.

“Just accept that we were better!” He shows her his tongue.

“You really weren’t.” Liam sneers.

“Such a sore loser, Lima Bean.” Niall mocks him. “Rita, console your man.”

“I’m his girlfriend, not his babysitter.” She comments.

“Truth is,” Louis starts, “straight men don’t know how to lose.” He shrugs. “You’d be doing the same thing, Nialler.”

“Yes, we do. Zayn’s fine,” Liam points at him.

“Zayn’s not straight.” Perrie offers.

“I rest my case.” Louis smiles and gets up. “I’m going to get some water. Anyone want anything?” Everyone asks for something. “Good. Get up and come get it, it was a rhetorical question.” He walks away smirking to himself.

“I’ll- get you guys things.” Harry mumbles, getting up to.

“Yeah, sure.” Niall laughs. “Miss Anne, thank you so much for having us here, it’s-” Niall’s voice disappears as Louis gets into the kitchen, searching for a clean glass to get some water.

 

“So. Zayn talked to me about you and me.” Harry tells him, getting closer.

“Yeah. So. Your  _ mom _ talked to me about you and me,” he chuckles. 

“That was what you were talking about then, uh?”

“Yep.” Louis smiles, looking at him. 

“How did that conversation go?” The boy holds his hands between them.

“It went well, if I say so myself.” Louis states. “I have your mother’s blessing.”

“I had a feeling you would.” Harry kisses his cheek, then rests his head on his shoulder, nose touching Louis’ neck. “Thank you for coming. I’m so happy, Louis. So, so happy. I know I keep repeating it, but-”

“I know.” Louis soothes him. “Me too.”

For a second, they just breathe together. And then:

“I got you a present.”

“I chose UCLA.”

Both whisper together.

“Harry.” Louis tightens his grip on his hand.

“I’m going to UCLA, Lou.” He repeats, a proud tone to his voice. “I can’t believe they thought I was enough.”

“You are enough,” Louis tells him. “A thousand times enough.”

Harry kisses his cheek again.

“You got me a birthday present?”

“Yes.”

“Is it here?”

“No.” He answers. “I’ll give you tomorrow, before brunch with Miss Helena and the girls, okay?”

“Okay.” Harry agrees. Louis holds him for one more minute, then asks for a clean glass, drinks his water, and, together, they go back into the living room.

 

Louis and Harry might be the only  _ couple _ in the world who becomes a couple without actually touching like one. It’s okay, though. For now, it’s more than okay.

Good won. Harry Styles is the proof that you can walk through hell and still be an angel.

 

-

 

Time passes differently for people, Louis thinks.

The seniors from CPS (Chicago Public School) seem to think it  _ flies _ . Every day they keep commenting on how fast the days are passing and that they need to organize their graduation party as soon as possible. Louis watches them throughout the classes and he  _ envies _ them. He thinks Harry might feel the same though they never talk about it. Because for the two of them, time has never been  _ slower _ .

He can’t complain, he knows that. From where he’s standing, he’s pretty sure things could be much different. Zayn could’ve told James about them, Liam could’ve told on them, Harry’s mom could  _ hate _ him. But none of these things happened, so Louis knows he ought to be thankful.

Still, it’s hard. It’s hard to be in love with someone who’s so close and so untouchable (literally) at the same time. It’s hard to not be able to tell people how much you love them, how much you want to be with them and do everything with them.

Yes, Louis envies his students a little bit. Because, for them, time’s passing so fast they can barely grasp it. To Louis, time’s tricking him over and over, and he’s sort of done with it.

 

-

 

When the bell rings on a Friday day in April, Louis runs out of school so fast that he barely says goodbye to anyone. Harry doesn’t have class today, which means he’s working at the café, and Zayn leaves a bit earlier than he does on Fridays.

Louis gets into his car quickly and drives to the airport with such  _ happiness _ inside him… It’s almost uncontainable.

 

As promised, his family is coming to see him. Finally.

It’s only the second time the twins are traveling by plane; Louis gets worried for a few seconds, hopes everything went all right with them, but he’s quickly filled with love and giddiness once he sees them running towards him.

“MY BABIES!” His scream is muffled by Doris’ hair and Ernie’s cheeks, but he thinks it’s fine.

“Lou! Lou!” Ernie keeps repeating.

Louis kisses his cheek, then his sister’s, and excuses himself to get up and talk to everybody else.

He hugs his dad, then his mom, and Lottie, at last.

“I’ve missed you guys.” He says.

“Shit, it’s cold here.” Lottie hugs herself.

“Language.” Mark frowns at her. Their parents don’t mind  _ much _ when they curse, unless, of course, they’re in front of very much awake twin toddlers.

“So, how was the trip, everything alright?” He asks, taking two bags — one from Lottie, one from his mother.

“Yes! The twins behaved so well, can barely believe it.” Johanna tells him, holding both toddlers by their hands. 

“Did you like the plane, loves?” Louis asks them with a big smile on his face, starting to walk towards the parking lot.

“Yes! Fly sooo high, Achoo!” Doris tells him.

“And many clouds too!” Ernest says with big, impressed eyes.

“Yeah, it’s pretty dope up there…” He agrees.

“Did you just say  _ dope _ ?” Mark laughs at him.

“Literally no one says  _ dope _ anymore, Louis.” Charlotte teases him.

Louis simply rolls his eyes and bump shoulders with them. It’s going to be a long weekend.

 

-

 

He wasn’t planning on seeing Harry this weekend. Sure, he did buy him an Easter egg, because Harry loves chocolate and he knows how happy he’ll be to get one, but he fully intended to only give it to him on Monday evening, when they’d agreed to have dinner. So, you can imagine Louis’ surprise when he’s in the living room with his family, having pizza for dinner because they were all too tired to cook properly or go out, and Harry enters the house.

“You came!” Lottie gets up from her spot on the floor and almost makes Harry fall on the ground, jumping in his arms. 

“Hi, Lots.” The boy chuckles, lifting her up for a few seconds. “How are you?”

“I’m good. Missed you.” She smiles, letting him go.

“You too,” he smiles back. Harry looks tired, but happy. “Hi, everyone. ‘M Harry.” He waves. Then, he looks at Louis, and back to Lottie. “Why does he look surprised that I’m here?”

“We might’ve failed to tell him we’d invited you.” The girl bites her bottom lip.

“We?” Louis finally asks.

“Oh, we were dying to meet him, Louis!” Jay huffs, getting up from the couch. “It’s good to finally see your pretty face in person, Harry.” His mom says.

Harry chuckles, but moves to hug her too.

“It’s good to meet you too, Mrs. T-” he stops. “Jay.” They both smile to each other.

“I’m Mark. Nice to see you, son. These are the little ones.” He points to Doris, who’s already asleep on the couch, and Ernest, almost dozing off.

Harry shakes his father’s hand.

“Good to see you, too. Did you guys fly in okay?” The boy asks, walking around Louis’ living room as if he belongs — because he  _ does _ —, and getting on his knees to say  _ hello _ to Ernest. 

“We did, but today’s been tiring.” Jay offers.

“I can imagine. I just came to say hi, I’ll get out of your hair soon enough.” 

“Nonsense.” Louis rolls his eyes. Harry stops to look at him one more time. “As if I’m gonna let you go back to Fuller Park now.”

Harry only offers him a tight lipped smile.

“Hello, Ernest.” He says lower, next to the boy. “I’m Harry.”

“Say hi, baby.” Jay tells the little boy.

“Hi.” The blond toddler looks at Harry. 

“That’s a really nice toy you got there, what is it?” He sits and motions to the boy’s hands.

Ernest simply gives the stuffed animal to him. It sort of surprises Louis. Ernest doesn’t like sharing.

“I love giraffes!” Harry says excitedly, making Ernest wake up a bit more. “When I was little, I’d only sleep with my giraffe, did you know?” He tells him. “Does it have a name?” Ernie shakes his had negatively. “Shouldn’t we give it a name?”

The little boy yawns.

“Yes!” He agrees.

“What are we thinking, hm?” Harry looks at the giraffe. “Is it a boy or a girl?”

“A girl.” Ernie decides.

“Hm, okay. Let’s see…”

They go back and forth on names for five to ten minutes. In between, Jay asks him questions about the day and Harry tells him about school and work. To be honest, he can’t wait to be done with both of them. He says he’s ready to start anew. When he says it, he’s looking at Louis. And, boy, does Louis agree.

Ernest eventually falls asleep holding the toy, head on Harry’s lap. Mark offers to take him to bed, but Harry says it’s okay if he stays a bit longer, so Louis father gets up, reheats some pizza and brings it back to Harry.

“You didn’t have to, but thank you.” Harry tells him. “Didn’t realize I was hungry.”

“Wanna a beer?” Mark offers.

“I’m not exactly legal.” The boy chuckles.

Louis’ dad sighs with a chuckle and goes back to the kitchen, and Lottie helps him. They enter the living room with three bottles of beer — one for Harry, on for Lottie, and one for Mark himself —, and two glasses of wine — for Jay and for Louis, who’s accompanying her.

“How’s your mother, Harry?” Jay asks him.

“She’s good. I think she’s seeing someone but doesn’t wanna tell me,” he frowns.

“Really?” The teacher is surprised.

“Yeah. I’ve been suspecting since last week, forgot to tell you,” Harry answers. “She probably thinks I’ll throw a fit, which- can’t blame her.” He shrugs and takes a sip from the beer.

“Will you?” Lottie asks.

“I mean- no?” He answers. “It’s weird, but like- it’s been nine months since dad died. He’d have wanted her to move on.” Harry looks down, voice getting a bit shaky. “I don’t know.”

“She’s scared.” Jay tells him. “I know that I’d be.” She shrugs. “But if she  _ is _ dating, then that’s good for her. Your mom deserves happiness, right?”

“The best.” The boy lifts his head. “My mom deserves the best.” He agrees.

“Cheers.” Mark lifts his beer.

They drink their drinks and change topics. Louis thought Jay would like Harry — she kind of already did just through the phone —, so his big surprise turns out to be Mark. He asks Harry all kinds of questions about college and his plans for the future, and Harry tells him animatedly about all of them.

He can’t wait to go to UCLA and start a new chapter. Lottie tells him he’s going to love it, and she’ll introduce him to everyone.

“Did you know they have an LGBTQ center?” She asks him. “I have a couple of friends who are a part of it, seems to be cool.”

“I’d like to go there.” He says enthusiastically. “D’you know if there’s anything related to kids on the streets?”

“I’m not sure…” She seems to ponder. “It’s LA, after all. But I’m certain we can find something, even if it’s not on campus.”

“I’d like that.” Harry responds. “I’m gonna miss visiting Miss Helena.”

“They’re gonna miss you too.” Louis says.

“Who’s Miss Helena?” Jay asks.

They tell her about the woman and all the work she does with the girls she can help. Jay gets super interested, so Louis promises to take her there some other time.

When it starts to get late, around midnight, everyone is already yawning. It’s been a long ass day for all of them after all. Mark takes Ernie from his lap, saying goodnight, and then Harry walks towards the couch on his knees and kisses Doris’ head.

“Excited to meet you in the morning, little one.” He whispers, leaving another kiss on her temple.

“I’d better take her to bed as well.” Jay gets up sighing. Harry gets up and hugs Jay goodnight, exchanging a few muttered words Louis can’t hear, then lets her take Doris.

“I’m gonna shower, ‘m feeling gross.” Lottie tells them. 

“Left you a towel in my bathroom, Lots. And take the right side of the bed, please.” He instructs.

“I  _ know _ .” She rolls her eyes. “Night, Hazz. See you in the morning.” Harry kisses her on the cheek and waves.

Then there’s only them in the living room.

“Balcony?” Louis tilts his head. “I could use a smoke.”

 

It feels like only yesterday they were here, sitting exactly like they are now. Louis sits down and lights up a cigarette. The street looks just as empty as it did a year ago, the only light coming from the poles, the moon making a shy appearance tonight.

The spring wind is nice on his body. His head’s spinning and this, right now, is just what he needed. Harry asks him for a cigarette and just like one year ago, Louis passes him one. Harry rarely smokes, but he sometimes accompanies Louis; it’s not a good habit, and the teacher wishes he could deny it to him, but at this point, Louis doesn’t think he can deny Harry anything.

He sighs and lets his head hang low, elbows rested on both of his knees. Harry’s quiet, this time. He doesn’t joke about Louis doing something illegal, neither does he comment on how hot the teacher looks smoking — something he’s been doing for a month or so now. 

But then, slowly, as if he’s not sure he should be speaking, the boy says:

“I’m sorry.” His voice is small. 

“What for?” Louis frowns, looking at him.

“Showing up without telling you. You told me you were going to spend time with your family, and I barged in. Even though Lottie and your mom texted me… It wasn’t right. I’m sorry.” The way he sounds… It’s like he really believes this is why Louis is quiet.

“Baby…” Louis says as he exhales the smoke. “I’m not upset you showed up.”

“But we’re- technically speaking, we’re nothing, Lou. We’re  _ nothing _ yet, and I’ve already met your parents.” He’s blushing now.

“Many of my friends have met my parents.” Louis ponders. Before Harry can get another word out, he continues: “And I’m in love with you. Not because it’s midnight and I’m not thinking properly. It’s because I am truly, sort of inconveniently in love with you. I love you.” He shrugs. It’s the easiest thing he’s ever said. “I love you in the middle of the night when I can’t sleep, and when I see you at seven in the morning, counting down the days till I don’t have to be responsible and keep my distance.

I love you at ten, during break and at four, when I’m back home but you’re still at work, and I just really want to hear you voice. I love you every time I’m doing something and keep wishing you were there with me. And I’ll keep loving you. Tonight, tomorrow, and every day after that. Okay?” The teacher meets his eyes again. “We met for a reason, Harry Styles. And against all odds we fell in love. Don’t you dare say we’re nothing. Okay?”

“Yet.” Harry breathes out, tears prickling in his eyes. “I said we’re nothing  _ yet _ .”

“But baby, we’re everything.” He sits closer.

“I just- I feel silly. I feel silly all the time. And I’m sorry that I need reassurance, it’s just- you won’t touch me, and you won’t kiss me, and I’m scared that after graduation you’ll still find a way for us not to be- a couple.” The last word comes out with a sigh.

“Hazz.” It takes everything in him not to roll his eyes. “We’re as  _ coupl-y _ as they come.” Louis scoots closer. “How can you feel silly after that speech I just made, hm?” He smiles, nudging the boy’s arm. “If anything,  _ I  _ should feel silly, after all, I was the one who just spilled his guts for his boy to say we’re nothing.” Louis raises an eyebrow.

Harry makes himself small, like he usually does, and rests his head on Louis’ shoulder.

“I love you.” The boy then says. Louis knew that,  _ knows _ that, but hearing those words puts his heart even more at ease. “I love you so much.”

“Love you too.”

“I can’t wait to kiss you all the time.”

“Me neither, H.” Louis slings an arm over his shoulder. “Me neither.”

  
  



	15. TOUCHING HEAVEN

 

**_"You’ve been my glimpse of Kingdom right from the start."_ **

 

 

Graduation happens at the end of May. The whole school is excited, and the morale is up. Every senior can only think about two things: their graduation ceremony and the party. All Harry can think about: he doesn’t want to go to it. And how does Louis know? Because he won’t stop whining.

“I’m just saying, I don’t see the point. I’m one year older, I’m not really friends with those people. I’m pretty sure half of them hate me-”

“Oh yeah, Mr. Nineteen, please tell me all the ways you’re ahead of them.” Louis crosses his arms, done with this discussion. “You’re going to your graduation party, Harry. Period.”

“You are not my mother, Louis.” He snorts.

“Your mother wants you to go.”

“My mother wants me to be happy. And I’ll be much happier going to Niall’s bar with you, her and her weird boyfriend anyways.” Harry waves his hands around.

“You don’t know whether he’s weird.” Louis points.

“Whatever.” The boy throws himself on the couch, staring at the ceiling.

“Mature.” He sits by his side.

“Shut up.” The boy rolls his eyes. “I’m serious, though. Why is it so important to you that I go to this party anyways?”

“Because- it’s special, okay? Finishing high school is special. Your whole life’s about to change, Harry. This is not going to be familiar anymore. In a couple of months you’re gonna be halfway across the country.” Louis tries to convince him. “The party’s going to be a good memory, years from now.”

“Louis. We have not had the same life experiences, okay?”

“I’m aware of that, but-”

“Lemme finish, Mr. Tomlinson.” Harry’s voice is stern. Also, Louis  _ hates _ when Harry calls him Mr. Tomlinson. It makes him angry. But also horny. All right, more horny than angry. “You’re right, my whole life is about to change and  _ thank God _ for that.  _ Thank God _ that school won’t be familiar anymore — the place where I bullied kids, had your car trashed, was blackmailed and threatened, where everyone made me feel like absolute trash from the word go.”

“That’s where you met me too.” His voice’s a whisper, air punched out of his lungs.

“You’re the only good thing that happened there, Lou.” Harry takes his hands. “Which is why I want to get out of there with you for good, first chance I get. I don’t need a party to look back to. I need you, and mom, and chicken wings while Niall ruffles my hair thinking he’s some sort of big brother.” He chuckles. “If I’m going to move halfway across the country from you, sweaty classmates aren’t really the memory I want to hold on to. Is that all right?”

The teacher takes a deep breath.

“All right.” He says. “If that’s what you want, of course, yes.”

“Yes.” Harry hugs him. “Thank you.”

“I’m not the boss of you, you’re right. You’re allowed to do things even when I don’t agree with them.” He makes it clear.

“I know that.” The boy nods. “But I love you, and I admire you, and your approval is important to me.” Louis is about to say something again, but he’s interrupted- “Which is  _ why _ we’re going out this afternoon to pick my graduation outfit. Apparently mom’s new boyfriend wants to get on my good side and gave me money for a suit before he even met me?” Harry chuckles.

Harry asked Anne about her boyfriend three weeks ago. They had a heart to heart and all is well.

“Trying to ease the tension, I see.” Louis muses. “All right then, let’s go. We should call Zayn, though. And Perrie. She’ll be more of a help than me, I’m sure.”

“The more the merrier. Although- you’re gonna be the one removing it from me the second we’re back to this apartment on Wednesday, so to my way of thinking, you’re the one who needs to love it the most.” Harry winks and gets up. “I’ll wash my face and we can go. Text Zayn and Perrie.”

 

Louis takes another deep breath and closes his eyes. Wednesday. He can wait till Wednesday. Just two more days.

 

-

 

“Louis, are you ready?” Corden asks as Louis finishes fixing his hair in front of the mirror.

“Yeah, going now.” He lets him know.

Louis checks his phone for the third time and Harry hasn’t replied yet; he just hopes the boy is here somewhere, that he got here safe and in time.

When he’s almost giving in and calling him one more time, he gets a text from Rita, Liam’s girlfriend:  **_just saw his mom, they’re all here_ ** _.  _

Taking a deep breath, the teacher joins his fellow work mates and his boss by the side of the stage, where they’ll watch the ceremony.

“Hanging in there, Lou?” Zayn asks. He simply nods.

“Not much now, eh?” James Corden winks. Louis holds his breath. “Oh c’mon, you really thought I didn’t know?”

“We all knew.” Simon offers, voice disapproving.

Louis ignores him and looks at James.

“Not much now,” he answers his boss with a smile on his face. “Also, thanks for not firing me.” The teacher whispers.

“I won’t have to. You’ll resign in a couple of weeks, I’m sure.”

“Wh- what?” It comes out choked.

“Louis. We love you here,” James tells him. “But the person  _ you _ love is going to California after the summer. Oh wait- are you really fooling yourself into thinking you’ll be staying here while that boy’s very much within limits now?” The principal is properly shocked. Not more than Louis, though.

“He is.” Zayn smiles.

Simon snorts and gets to the stage.

“Oh boy. Guess I will be firing you after all, then kicking your ass back to California.” Still not knowing what to say, Louis opens and closes his mouth a few times. “Don’t worry, pal,” James pats him on the shoulder, “I’ve got contacts on the West Coast. You’ll get a great recommendation.” With that, the principal takes the stage as well, making Louis and Zayn the last ones to join the faculty.

All in all, the ceremony is good. It’s not too lengthy, but it does its job. Some teachers talk, some people cry, and there’s a lot of clapping and hugging. When a girl takes the stage to make her speech, the final one before they can get their diplomas and leave, she says something that sticks with Louis for a long, long time:  _ in life, the things that go wrong are often the very things that lead to other things going right. _

He looks at Harry right at this moment, and the boy is cleaning up some tears he didn’t know had escaped. Louis offers him his brightest smile. He did it!  _ They _ did it!

 

-

 

“Mr. Tomlinson, do you mind taking a photo with my daughter?” Lizzy’s mother asks. “She’s studying English literature at Clemson next semester! Said all your classes inspired her.”

Lizzy smiles bashfully, her cheeks a bit rosy.

“That makes me really happy to know, thank you.” He smiles genuinely and hugs the mom, then the girl.

As soon as they take the picture, the girl thanks him one more time and tells him something about the university, but Louis can only focus on Harry, waiting for him with his mom, Robin - Anne’s boyfriend - and their friends.

Louis waves to another group of students, and thanks God mentally that they spotted Zayn first. Now the math teacher is the one dealing with other parents and pictures.

“Hello, there.” He smiles approaching the boy, hands in his pockets.

“Hey.” Harry winks. 

For a second, nobody says anything, but then Harry’s on him, hugging him tight in front of everyone, and he doesn’t let go for quite a while.

“I can’t believe this is happening.” The boy says in his neck.

“It is, baby.” Louis whispers back, arms around his waist. “I’m so proud of you.” He kisses his hair.

“Thank you so much, for everything, Lou.”

“Always.” He replies.

Someone clears their throat. Liam, of course.

“Sorry.” Liam says.

Harry rolls his eyes.

“Uh, Lou, this is Robin, Mom’s boyfriend.” He introduces the man. He’s big, kind looking, and has a nice smile on his face when he shakes Louis’ hand. “Robin, this is Louis, my very much  _ former _ teacher, and my soon to be boyfriend.” What a cheeky, cheeky bastard.

“Nice to meet ya, Robin.” Louis says.

“Same, Louis. Only heard great things about you. From both of them!” The man raises his eyebrows, then looks at Anne.

Louis doesn’t hesitate when he moves to hug her.

“Congratulations!” He says to the woman. “You have a really incredible son, whom I love very much.”

“God bless you, Louis Tomlinson.” Anne tightens her thin arms around him one more time before letting him go.

“So, this is nice and all, but shall we get some food?” Rita asks. “Perrie says she and Zayn are meeting us there.”

“Sure, sure, we should- go.” Louis says. “Does anyone need a ride?”

“We drove,” Liam says.

“I got my car too…” Robin says.

“I definitely need a ride.” Harry says, then grabs Louis’ hand. “C’mon, we’re going.” As he speaks, he’s already pulling Louis with him.

“You have no shame, do you?” Louis asks.

“Do you know how many pictures I had to take, and how many pictures I had to watch  _ you _ take before this moment right here?” The boy talks fast, still walking with Louis towards the parking lot. 

“Well  _ we _ didn’t take any pictures together.” He pouts.

“Are you kidding me? Mom and Rita were taking pictures of us hugging and looking at each other like idiots all the time. Didn’t you notice?” Harry frowns.

No. Louis didn’t. For a long time now, it seems as though the only thing Louis can see when the boy is around is Harry himself. And he’s okay with it.

 

They get in the car and Louis shoots his parents and Lottie a text to let them know that Harry’s officially out of school and they’re going to  _ A.M.  _ to celebrate.

“Kiss me.” Harry says before Louis turns the ignition.

“Hazz-”

“The glasses are tinted, I’m no longer a student here, and I need you to kiss me right the fuck now.”

Harry doesn’t get another word out before the man is on him.

Louis places one hand in his hair and another on his arm, pulling Harry in for an open mouthed kiss that is all passion, heat and no guilt. They’re free to be together now, and it’s all that matters in the world.

Harry’s hands are everywhere, but mainly on Louis’ thigh and the side of his face. He kisses back with just as much passion as he did that first time, and the second, but now he’s calmer too. There’s urgency, yes, but not a scary one. The urgency they’re kissing with right now is because they can’t spend one more minute away from each other. They’ve done their waiting.

Their tongues entwine like this is all they’re meant to be doing, and when Louis pulls on Harry’s hair he feels the boy moaning low in his throat. Louis swallows every whine, every little noise, and tilts his head to the other side, changing positions and kissing him even deeper. Harry sags into the seat and Louis is almost on him.

Because he refuses to straddle the boy in the school parking lot, Louis slows down when his hand’s on Harry’s lower stomach, almost on his crotch. Harry picks up on it and fights a little, but Louis whispers  _ please, wait just a bit more _ to his mouth and the boy complies, carding his fingers through Louis’ hair in a soft motion, and pecking his mouth three times before letting go.

“Shall we, baby?” Louis asks.

“If you call me baby one more time, we ain’t going anywhere. Mr. Tomlinson.” Harry says.

“Fuck you.” He sighs.

“ _ Please, do _ .”

“You’re impossible,” the older man laughs while he turns on the car.

 

-

 

They barely spend an hour at Niall’s bar. Like, seriously, one could cut the tension with a knife. They take a few pictures, drink non-alcoholic cocktails, and when  _ Niall’s _ had enough of Harry and Louis eye-fucking, he begs them to leave. 

Louis doesn’t even remember picking up the tab. Oh well.

 

-

 

Once they’re finally home and in the bedroom, Harry closes the door behind them and locks it, even though they are the only ones in the apartment right now. Louis raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t say anything, he just turns around and walks towards his closet, where he starts discarding his clothes, making a mental note to put them in the hamper later. First goes his blazer and the tie, and then his shoes and socks. He’s starting to unbutton his shirt when he feels Harry standing behind him, too close, but not close enough.

The nineteen year old isn’t that much taller, not yet, at least, but he’s already broader than Louis, and there is something about it that turns him on even more, even when it shouldn’t. Louis shouldn’t be this turned on by his now former student; he shouldn’t want him to touch him, and kiss him, and spend days and nights between the sheets with him. But somehow, that’s  _ all _ he wants. That’s all Louis has been wanting for a long while now, if he is being truly honest with himself. And he’s ready to let go of the guilt and shame, if it was ever that in the first place. He thinks he’s been free of his own judgement for quite some time, if he’s being honest. 

Harry breathes hard on his neck, and his hands are barely touching Louis’ arms on each side, but they’re languid; these soft movements are enough to cause Louis’ entire body to shiver. Harry gets closer — a breath away from Louis’ back, really, and the hair on his nape is erect, knowing what is to come. The second the boy places a kiss there, just behind his ear, Louis gasps and threatens a little jump. So good. _ Lips so good. _

“Harry, what are you doing?” The teacher manages to ask as Harry’s hands move to the center of his shirt, fingers fumbling to open the first button.

“I’m unbuttoning your shirt,” he tells Louis as if he’s saying he’s going to buy some apples.

Louis lets him unbutton one, two, three buttons, and when Harry closes his mouth on the side of his neck again, right hand on his waist, left hand pulling the collar of the shirt, Louis  _ knows _ there is no coming back, but still, he needs to ask.

“Harry,  _ what _ are you doing?” Louis asks again, his voice just above a whisper.

“I’m kissing the side of your neck,” he says he latches his tongue just there, sucking a little bit afterwards. And then, because he knows Louis really needs an answer, he speaks, right hand coming up to Louis’ chest. “I’m gonna have you now.” Harry explains. “I’m gonna have you like I’ve been wanting to for  _ ages. _ ”

Louis smirks, but it doesn’t get very far as his breath hitches the second Harry’s thumb caresses his right nipple over the shirt, his other hand still holding the other side of the material so his mouth has more skin to explore.

“You said after graduation,  _ Louis _ .” 

He’s everywhere, playing with Louis’ nipple, speaking in his ear, biting his already wet earlobe, squeezing Louis’ arm.

“Didn’t- uh,” the teacher closes his eyes quickly, “didn’t think it’d be this soon after graduation.”  _ Liar. _ He totally did.

“I can stop.” Harry says, voice still low, but a bit different; a lot more serious. He steps back just a bit, hands leaving Louis’ body. “If you’re- if you want me to, I can stop.” He promises.

But no. No more stopping.

“Don’t you dare.” Louis warns, and the second the words are out of his mouth Harry steps closer again at the same time he brings Louis’ body back to him. He grabs him by the waist and fits his crotch against Louis’ bum, and the teacher can feel his hardness already, and craves it like nothing else, like never, ever before. Harry places both hands under Louis’ half unbuttoned shirt, and spreads them on his tummy, running them upwards to his nipples once again and pulling them both hard, fast, deliciously so, as his mouth explores everything it reaches, biting and sucking and licking.

Louis tries to hold back a moan, but just can’t. So, he brings one of his hands to Harry’s hair and pulls it as strongly as possible, earning a loud groan and feeling the other boy buck up against him, causing them both to tumble towards the wall. Louis is pinned against the wall, his face turning to the other side as the boy holds him by the waist, just standing there, pressing against his body, breathing heavily and rapidly, kind of lost right now.

The teacher starts to grind against Harry’s crotch and does his best to finish unbuttoning his own shirt, sliding it off of his shoulders so his back is completely naked to Harry. Noticing what he is doing, Harry steps back just enough for the shirt to fall on the floor, but then he’s there again, rutting against Louis’ ass and emitting small moans as the older man circles his hips against his clothed cock.

“God, Louis,” Harry exhales sharply through his nose, pressing closer, closer,  _ closer _ . “Please, kiss me,” he says, head falling onto Louis’ shoulder, mouth wet and inviting.

“Lemme turn around, bad boy, and maybe you’ll get lucky.” He breathes out. And Harry lets him, although his hands never leave Louis’ body. “How long have you been planning this?” Louis smiles teasingly. “Uh? How long have you been imagining having your hard cock against my ass, kissing and licking me everywhere?” He asks, pulling Harry closer to him too, hands around his neck.

“Too long,” he breathes, “too fucking long.”

“Been having wet dreams about me, Hazz?” He checks again, just a breath away from kissing him. 

“Every night.” The boy confesses.

Louis can almost feel Harry’s lips. And he wants to kiss him, fuck, he does. He just needs to tease him one more time.

“Yeah? And what d’you do about it, hm?” He places a soft kiss on the corner of Harry’s mouth.

“No matter what time it is,” Harry’s nose bumps with his, and his lips curve upwards slightly, “I just lay back and wank,” he says, “sometimes it’s slow, sometimes it’s very fast, and rough… But it’s always with you in my mind, always wan-” Louis kisses him. Honestly, if he spoke anything else Louis would probably come right now and he can do better than let that happen.

Louis goes left, Harry goes right, and they fit. Their kiss isn’t tentative or unsure. It’s hot from the get go. It’s tongues and lips and teeth, all coming together and taking both their breaths away, as their bodies finally sag into the other, as if it’s thanking them for getting it right. Harry kisses Louis in a way Louis hasn’t been kissed since he himself was a teenager.

It’s messy and way too eager, but it doesn’t lack technique. He’s good. Damn it, the boy is good. What is different in him is just how much he wants it, how he cares about making this good. They tilt their heads to opposite sides now, tongues still entwined, as Harry’s hands sprawl on Louis’ back - they’re big, and hot, and one of them quickly finds its way to Louis’ hair, as they both do their best not to break the kiss.

Louis’ hands find the hem of Harry’s shirt and pulls it up quickly, making them separate for a bit. The air hits him for the first time in God knows how long, and he opens his eyes to stare at Harry’s naked torso. In just a year, his body has changed a lot, and Louis could see it even over his clothes. But now that he is here, and he can touch his toned abs and stare shamelessly at his arms, Louis finds himself in awe of just how utterly  _ beautiful _ this boy is.

“Dear Lord,” he mumbles as he pulls Harry into him again, too far away now to care about anything else. He pulls him by the hair one more time and gives him a quick, dirty kiss, rapidly guiding Harry’s mouth to his throat again. Louis is a whore for neck kisses, and with lips like those, Harry’s gonna be giving him a lot of them now.

The boy nibbles on the soft skin there, but then moves to his collarbones, licking and biting and sucking marks all over, making Louis’ head go dizzy and his hands go crazy as he scratches Harry’s back each time the boy hurts him a little too good.

“Fuck,” he moans, throwing his head back because it’s just too much.

Harry then places both hands behind his thighs and takes him up, pulling one leg at a time, sliding Louis up against the wall and holding him there with his own body, and Louis can feel his ass, once again, exactly atop of Harry’s dick - which he’s getting hungrier and hungrier for.

They kiss a bit more and time stops existing. Completely. But they are hard, and still half-clothed, and a make out session just isn’t enough for either of them. Louis doesn’t need to say anything, though, because Harry quickly realizes the same and carries him to the bed. Louis kisses his neck on the short way, and Harry almost lets him fall when his knees go weak at Louis’ ministrations.

He throws Louis on the bed and the teacher bounces on his mattress, a bit shocked and a lot aroused.

“Take off your jeans already for fuck’s sake,” he asks Harry before the boy gets into bed.

And when he does, Louis finds out he’s not wearing any underwear. His mouth goes  _ oh _ and Harry smirks, knowing  _ exactly _ how good he looks. His dick is big. Like, really big. But it’s nothing Louis hadn’t noticed before. Even soft, that thing stood out every time Harry wore these damn painted on black jeans, and although Louis has never touched, he  _ has _ looked at it thoroughly on the many nights Harry spent on his couch. Sue him. He’s only human.

Harry kneels on the bed by his side and gives himself a quick tug, closing his eyes instantly and letting another moan escape his lips. His hair falls beautifully onto his face and shoulders, and the curve of his magnificent cock makes Louis’ mouth go dry with so much want.

“Get here,” Louis’ whispers, unbuttoning his jeans. “Get here right the fuck now,” he says as he tries to slide his pants off, but he gives up quickly when Harry lays by his side, kissing him fiercely one more time, supporting his body with one hand by the side of Louis’ head.

The teacher closes his eyes once again and moves his body to mold it against the boy’s one more time - he never wants to be away from him again -, and is only half surprised when Harry’s free hand finds its way into Louis’ pants, squeezing him over his boxers and moaning obscenely as Louis’ dick twitches in his palm.

He massages him nonstop, and Louis can’t even kiss him anymore because this is just so good, but  _ so _ good, that his head falls against the pillow one more time, and his hands grab any part of Harry they can, as he ruts into the boys’ hand and lets out a string of  _ ahs _ and  _ ohs _ each time Harry’s cock slides on his side, making Harry himself growl into his mouth.

“Can I take it off?” Harry asks politely, peppering his face with kisses. “Lou?” Louis opens his eyes. “Can I get you naked too?  _ Please _ .”

Harry is heaven on earth. He was created just for Louis, he’s sure.

He nods and smiles, and Harry pecks the corner of his mouth before rearranging their positions so he can take the rest of the Louis’ clothes off. In a swift, smooth move, the boy manages to remove both his jeans and his underwear, throwing them somewhere on the floor and staring at Louis wide-eyed and hungrily.

“You’re- you’re beautiful,” he whispers astounded. “I already knew you were, but you-” his mouth is hanging open and the words are stuck in his throat. Louis knows the feeling. He’s still recovering from it himself. Harry’s hand closes around Louis’ shaft and the teacher shudders all over at how good it feels, pulling the boy to lie by his side again, just so he can roll over Harry’s body and adjust their crotches just right.

Louis places his right leg in between Harry’s, and pulls him in again for another kiss, hand caressing his scalp seductively one more time, as Harry’s left one slides from his arm, to his back, down his spine, and finally land on his ass. When he does it, when he finally squeezes one of Louis’ asscheeks, separating it a bit and bringing his body closer, Louis whimpers in his mouth, not ashamed anymore of how much he wants this too, how good it feels to have him with no guilt, only pleasure - a lot of pleasure, and a lot of other feelings they’’ll have to talk about eventually.

Harry massages his ass and it feels a lot like he’s discovering things as he goes. Louis ruts against him now, letting their cocks slide and get wetter and wetter, precome spurting and mixing, especially when his hand grabs them both, squeezing at the head and making Harry stop suddenly, pinching Louis’ bum and catching his attention.

“What’s it, baby?” Louis asks hotly in his hear, the rest of his body absolutely still.

“You’re gonna make me come,” Harry says, clearly embarrassed.

“But that’s the whole point, isn’t it?” He asks again, hand starting to move over Harry’s head one more time.

“It’s too early,” he whines.

“Hazz.” The teacher smiles. “You’re nineteen.”

“I want this to last.” The boy confesses, his cheeks going red instantly, but his hand starts moving again on Louis’ bum, just slow circles on the skin.

“Hazz.” Louis practically coos. “You’re  _ nineteen _ . You can come now and get hard again in no time to fuck me till dawn…” He says it simply, too, and that’s what gets to Harry the most.

“Uh-” the boy closes his eyes shut, bringing half of Louis’ body on top of his again and moving the teacher against his front, sliding their cocks together once again, breathing heavily in the crook of Louis’ neck.

Louis lets him have his way, but then just because he really wants to, he starts kissing Harry’s neck again, and finds his favorite spot to suck as the younger boy has now has placed both hands on Louis’ bum and is squeezing and massaging it really hard as he maneuvers Louis’ body against his.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Harry says, “God, Lou- I’m gonna- Shit,” he whispers and Louis grinds down again, extra hard this time. “Fuckin- fuck, I love your ass, I-  want to…” Louis shuts him up with a kiss, their tongues entwine again and Louis is almost combusting with how hot this all is, even though he knows he’s not completely  _ there _ yet. He  _ could _ come like this too, and he won’t deny it, but he’s holding back a bit; like he said: he wants more.

But Harry is frantic. Louis knows that a little bit more of this and a little more of that will make him come for the first time tomorrow, so he separates their mouths and hovers over the boy, bringing one hand down again and wanking Harry furiously, giving him sharp, hard tugs, pushing him over the edge.

“Come for me, Harry,” he says in his ear. “Come for me, baby, c’mon…”

“I-  _ oh _ fuck, I.”

“Come for me, please, and then you’ll get to come inside me.” Louis whispers and strokes at the same time again, and this is all it takes for Harry’s body to go rigid. He closes his eyes and his mouth opens wide, an obscene moan coming out of it, as the hot stripes of come paint his stomach and Louis’ fingers.

The teacher strokes him through it, and kisses his sweaty forehead as Harry feels the last spasms of his orgasm, legs going lax and hands loosening their grip on Louis’ arm and thigh.

Louis pecks his cheek and then the tip of his nose, and before he can overthink it, brings his fingers to his mouth to clean Harry’s come from them. It isn’t good - it never is, no matter how much porn stars pretend -, but it’s not horrible either, and it’s very worth it once the boy finally opens his eyes just to close them again, exhaling a soft  _ fuck _ , turning his head to the side. 

Louis rests his head on the same pillow, body sideways, and looks straight at him.

“Hey…” He smiles, stroking Harry’s hair. “You okay there, baby?”

“I think so,” Harry says, slowly opening his eyes once again, breath still irregular. “Do you think this is what heaven’s like?” He asks and smiles lazily, sounding more coherent as the seconds pass.

The teacher chuckles lowly.

“I’ll never know what heaven is like, but this is pretty awesome,” he admits, hand traveling back to Harry’s torso, thumb sliding over his hard nipple, and the boy shivers. “You’re so lush; don’t know how I resisted you…” Louis confesses, giving him another tongue filled kiss. This one’s slower, but still deep, still filthy.

“We could’ve been doing this for such a long time…” Harry says to his mouth.

“Well. Isn’t it much better that we’re doing it now and I  _ won’t _ go to jail because of it?” He asks.

“Been legal for a while. You wouldn’t have gone to jail.”

“Just lost my job.” He teases.

“I’d support you.” The younger boy grins.

“Yeah, how, baby?” 

“I would’ve figured it out.” Harry tells him.

“Wouldn’t let you do it,” Louis decides.

“Doesn’t matter, I would’ve wanted to.” He says. “I  _ want _ to.” He reinforces, turning to look at Louis. “One day I’mma pay you back for everything you did for me…” The boy promises, and he’s looking at Louis  _ so _ adoringly that the teacher can’t do anything but smile at him. “I’ll take care of you, Lou. You and Mom, of course,” he chuckles. “But yeah. There’s nothing I want more.” His cheeks blush.

“Nothing?” Louis raises an eyebrow, trying to bring sexy time back, not knowing how to deal with  _ future _ talk right now. “You sure of that?” He changes his voice, moving one hand to the side of Harry’s neck again.

“ _ Right now _ there might be something I want more, yeah…” Harry responds, body shifting too.

Louis is back to being half hard now, but still very much in the mood, thank you.

“Hm…” The older one muses. “What could it possibly be?”

Harry focuses on him, eyebrows frowning just a bit.

“Were you- uh; were you serious about, you know, m-me fucking you?” The last three words come out in such a rush that Louis is perplexed with how fast Harry can actually talk when he wants to.

“Yes. Yes, I was.” He responds, just as serious. The thought goes straight to his dick once more. “You weren’t the only one with constant wet dreams for an endless wank bank, Harold.” He tries to make light of the situation, but then Harry takes a deep breath.

“Okay. Yeah. All right.” The boy breathes again.

“Hey. Hazz. Have you done this before? Have you- have you had  _ sex  _ before?” He asks. 

“Yes.”

“Okay.” He swallows. “Have you had sex with  _ men _ before?” Louis specifies.

“Y-yes. A bit.” The boy looks down. “Uh. Blow jobs.” 

“It’s okay, baby,” Louis brings one hand to his heated cheek. “It’s all right.”

“I want to, so much, I just.” He looks at Louis. “I don’t wanna be bad at it.”

“Harry. We’ve been talking for a while now and I haven’t even gone soft,” he chuckles. “You’re not going to be bad at it, it’s just- impossible really. And if-  _ if _ you are, which is a big if, then we’ll give it another try. And then another. And another.”

“We can give it many tries?” Harry asks, a smile starting to appear on his face.

“As many was you want.” Louis assures him. 

“I may want to a lot, your ass is pretty incredible, you know?” He gets closer, kisses Louis once, twice, three times on the mouth, his hand sliding up from Louis’ thigh to squeeze one of his asscheeks.

“And it’s all yours for the time being.” The teacher  muses, crossing his arms around Harry’s neck.

“All mine, uh?” Harry kisses him again, tongue first. 

This one takes a bit longer. They melt into each other once again, and this time it’s Louis who spreads his legs for Harry, who quickly fits in between them, not once breaking their kiss. Louis hugs him with his legs, and one of Harry’s hands moves to his thigh quickly, gripping it hard as he starts rutting against Louis again, turning the kiss frantic and the hair pulling all the more necessary.

“All yours,” Louis whispers when they come up for air.

“So…” Harry kisses down his throat, “does it mean I can do  _ anything _ with it? Anything I like?” He asks, going down his body leaving a trail of French kisses that have Louis’ insides going all twisty and his dick very appreciative. He keeps one hand mussing Harry’s hair and the other grabs his own cock, stroking it loosely and not very fast, getting ready while keeping himself on edge.

“Y-yeah,” his breath hitches when he tries to answer him, his whole body on fire as Harry’s mouth works its magic down his hips and finds his inner thigh. 

“Where’s the lube, Lou? And- uh, a condom?” Harry asks, breathing between his legs.

“It’s-  _ aah _ ,” he’s surprised by Harry’s tongue. The boy licks from his balls to the tip of his dick.

“Hm?” Harry asks, just before closing his mouth over Louis’ head.

“They’re- shit, H, lemme—” Louis arches his body a bit, cock doing deeper into Harry’s mouth. The boy  _ moans,  _ and the vibrations nearly blinds the teacher. “Bed. Box,” he says, Harry goes up again, laps his tongue around the head, “ _ UNDER. _ ”

“What a funny word for you to scream,” the menace smirks, “in a box under the bed, is that it?” he checks, a stupid grin on his face.

“You weren’t being cheeky like that when I had your dick in my hand.” Louis snaps.

“HA!” Harry laughs loudly. “It’s my turn now.”

He bends down to find the box and Louis notices Harry’s almost fully hard again.  _ Ah, to be nineteen and full of energy.  _

“Suit yourself, Harry Styles.” Louis tells him. Harry looks up from the ground where he knelt to find the box and grins at Louis. A smile on Harry Styles face might just be the most disconcerting thing to ever exist.

Harry retrieves what he needs and comes back to bed, and Louis is already so ready to go that he was kind of expecting Harry to be too, but when they start kissing again and Louis reaches for the lube by his side, Harry takes it out of his hand and intertwines their fingers, pinning both of Louis’ hands by the side of his head and kissing him harder. Once again, Louis hugs Harry with his legs and feels his own dick on his stomach, begging  _ please _ for some release, as Harry’s own hardness slides forwards and backwards on his inner thigh.

The boy kisses his jaw and his neck and gets closer to his ear again, provoking uncontrollable spasms on Louis’ body, which craves him, and craves him, and craves him some more.

“Did you mean that?” Harry’s voice is already hoarse with want again, and it does things to Louis. “Can I do whatever I please with your ass?” He licks the outer ridge of his ear. The teacher shakes.

“Wha- what do you- _ oh, _ ” he’s interrupted by Harry’s tongue on his nipple. Some people have very sensitive parts on their bodies, but when it comes to this boy right here, Louis’ entire being is sensitive, even his ribs when Harry runs his knuckles there.

“You’ll see,” the boy mumbles as he licks down Louis’ middle, stopping quickly to suck a small mark below Louis’ navel.

Harry keeps kissing and licking him from hip to hip, till the finally gets to Louis’ dick and kisses his shaft open mouthed and wanting. Louis turns his head to one side to try and see him, but he can’t do much as Harry’s hands are still holding his arms down, a clear sign that he doesn’t want Louis to touch.

The teacher has never been one to be submissive, and he sure as hell has never taken orders in the bedroom, but as this nineteen year old sucks and bites him, squeezing his wrists as a warning, Louis finds himself absolutely compliant, holding still as Harry goes from his dick to his balls, sucking each one of them inside his mouth and making Louis forget that there’s a world outside, because nothing else matters but them.

Harry scratches his thigh and kisses every part he can, but it’s really when he holds both of Louis’ legs open in the air that the teacher understand what he is really after. Harry licks from his balls to his crack, and when his tongue stops flat on Louis’ rim, Louis arches his body in a way he never thought he could, because holy fucking shit, Harry’s unbelievable.

“Ha- _ harry, _ ” he whines as Harry licks him again, up and down, just getting the feel of him, his  strong arms still holding Louis’ up and hoylshitholyshitholyshit. “ _ Oh my- oh my fucking… H, OHHH FUCK _ ,” Louis screams at a particularly good lick.

“Your ass was made to be eaten,” Harry breathes hotly into him, and Louis can barely hear him with how much his ears are already ringing. “Wanna do this all day.” He tells Louis before diving in again.

Louis really believes Harry has never done this before, but not because of how he’s doing it, just because he’s  _ told _ him, as the young boy eats him out like a pro. Harry’s completely invested in it, and when he finally tires of licking him and holding his legs up in the air, he folds Louis’ in half and lets his arms fall on the back of Louis’ thighs, to still them there as he kisses and bites Louis’ ass cheeks, closing in around his hole kiss by kiss, biting the soft skin and-

“FUCKING- HA-AAA-RR-Y,” Louis cries out, but the boy pays him no mind, just lets go of one of his legs to find the lube and Louis can see what’s coming, he really can, specially when Harry uncaps it drizzles a bit over Louis’ hole, but the actual  _ feeling _ he gets when Harry presses the first finger slowly, still licking around it is something the teacher never thought he’d get to feel.

He moans louder than ever before, seeing as Louis isn’t even one to be loud in sex, and keeps letting out a string of  _ ohs _ and  _ ahs _ and  _ fortheloveofFUCK  _ as Harry pumps his finger in and out, licking around it and going so slow but so… Certain, at the same time, that it’s driving him mad.

When Louis manages to open his eyes again, he lifts his head just a bit to check on the other boy. Harry’s tongue and finger are never stopping, but what makes Louis lose his mind - once again - is the image of the boy completely sprawled on the bed, legs spread out too as he circles his hips against the mattress, giving his hard, beautiful, red cock a bit of friction. Louis wants to suck Harry’s dick until he has a sore throat, but for now all he can do is close his eyes again and feel the sweat drip down his forehead as Harry goes for another finger, coming out to breathe a bit and kissing Louis’ inner thighs.

“You okay, Lou?” He asks, second finger slowly pressing in.

“De—define o- _ OH _ -kay.”

Harry chuckles.

“Is it now that I scissor my fingers to loosen you up?” Louis thinks it was meant to be cheeky and sexy - which, still is, - but there is an undeniable curiosity in Harry’s voice, as if he wants to make sure that he knows how to do it properly, that he is doing this right.

“Y-yeah, baby.” Louis says. “Spread them as much as you can.” He breathes in and out, Harry kisses the crease of his thigh and climbs Louis’ body a bit, kissing his tummy now and looking at him, “You’re perfect.” He whispers.

Louis  _ blushes. _

“You are,” Harry says, “you’re incredible.” He kisses him again on his left hip. “Can’t wait to be inside you,” he whispers and Louis moans at the words again, sure that Harry’s going to suck yet another mark on his body - he seems to be very fond of those -, but no, he goes down on Louis’ again and without any warning whatsoever, he licks between both of his fingers in Louis’ asshole, thrusting into it with his tongue and Louis screams for the umpteenth time this evening, his upper body almost leaving the mattress completely as his legs fall around Harry’s shoulder trembling when Harry finally finds his prostate.

“I need-  _ H.”  _ Louis calls him, but Harry’s too immersed in thrusting into Louis with his fingers and tongue to hear him. But he can’t take this anymore, he really can’t take it without coming, he just needs- “Hazz, Harry plEASE.” He cries out, one hand going to his hair to pull him up.

“Yes?” Harry fakes calmness.

“You-re,”  _ my God Louis is going to come, he swears he’s going to,  _ “you’re pressing on my prostate.”

“Oh, really?” He smiles, curving his fingers upwards and intensifying it.

“You little- you little shit,” the teacher tries to laugh, but his irregular breath barely lets him complete a sentence.

“You and I both know I ain’t little, Lou.” Harry smirks, and Louis slaps his shoulder.

“Roll over, now.” He says, trying to regain some composure.

Slowly, Harry removes his fingers from Louis and exhales a soft  _ fuck _ as he sees his hole open just for him.

“See that?” Louis asks. “You did it. You got me ready to take your cock,” he teases him as he sits up and rolls Harry on his back, finding the condom easily and opening it.

“Fuck.” Harry says again, a bit more clearly now.

“You want that, H? Want your cock inside me?” His voice is low again, but mainly because he’s pretty sure he’s lost his ability to scream. Louis rolls the condom down Harry’s shaft before he gives in to his wishes and sucks him till sunrise, and pumps his cock a few times just for fun. If Harry gets any harder he’ll turn into stone.

“I want it,” Harry agrees with him just as Louis is straddling his body. The boy grabs the lube again and coats his dick with a generous amount of it. “I want to be inside you.” He says.

Louis grabs Harry’s cock and places it right between his asscheeks. He’s pretty sure this would feel a lot better if he weren’t wearing a condom, but Harry moans and closes his eyes anyways, so Louis’ thinks it’s good.

He lets Harry’s cock slide between his cheeks for a while, getting used to the feeling of it, feeling his own hole pulse with how much it wants-  _ needs _ Harry to fuck him.

Harry brings Louis torso down and the teacher falls once again with his head in the crook of Harry’s neck, and the boy is quick to kiss his shoulder, taking ahold of his own cock to finally,  _ finally _ guide it towards Louis’ entrance properly.

“Yeah?” Harry asks, tip positioned.

“Yes, please,” Louis responds.

Harry takes a deep breath and so does Louis, and then the boy guides his cock up as Louis presses down a bit, biting his bottom lip and closing his eyes shut, strongly, as the other boy’s dickhead breaks through his entrance and spreads him wider than he’s ever been before.

“Oh my G-” Harry chokes, and his head curves backwards as his neck arches from the pillow, giving Louis the opportunity to really bite it. “I- you-  _ oh. _ ” He moans again as Louis takes him in more and more, slowly but steadily. 

“You feel so good,” Louis tells him, because it’s true. Because he feels  _ full _ , because he feels  _ perfect _ , because the burn is the best fucking thing he’s ever felt.

“You- you too, it’s.  _ Shit _ .”

Louis takes all of him and his body’s still curved when he does it, still getting used to being this open.

“Biggest, best fucking cock I’ve ever had.” He tells Harry, circling his hips so as to get used to it. “Want to ride you till you come now, if that’s okay.” He smiles and kisses Harry’s cheek.

“Won’t take much.” The boy opens his eyes and places his hands on each side of Louis’ hips, helping him sit up.

Louis is slow at first. He uses his knees as support and slides up and down with long drags, feeling each inch of Harry’s hardness fill him up again and again, until he’s finally confident enough to start bouncing. Harry moans  _ shits  _ and _ fucks _ much like the teacher, and helps him holding him by the hips, fastening the pace a little bit.

He keeps doing it for God knows how long, his thighs burning and his body sweating more than he thought it would, and his cock bobs from one side to the other, but if he touches it now he’ll come on the spot. As it is, he sits back again and positions himself so he can hold his weight now on Harry’s thighs, finding comfort in this position once again as he dances on the boy’s laps.

Harry isn’t merciful and takes ahold of Louis’ dick, but doesn’t wank him furiously, just closes his fist around it as Louis’ own movements cause it to slide up and down the boy’s hand. Harry collects the precome on his tip and takes his thumb to his mouth, tasting another part of Louis and making the teacher grunt lowly in his throat. He’s too much.

“You’re too much,” Louis whispers.

“That a bad thing?” He smiles, lips shining with  _ Louis’  _ precome.

“Not at all.” Louis smiles back, but whines again.

“Come back here.” Harry asks and holds his fist, pulling Louis’ body forwards. Louis goes back to his first position, and Harry fucks up into him now, planting his feet on the bed and gaining momentum. One of his hands is holding the back of Louis’ hair, his fingers entwining there and pulling a bit as Louis tries to do the same with him, but loses strength the second the boy hits his prostate once again - but this time with his dick.

Harry’s other hand travels his back up and down, as their hips are still joined, moving in synchrony, and for a while there it’s only this. Skin on skin, stifled moans, and  _ burn burn burn _ , it burns so good. 

“You’re so tight, Lou,” Harry says, “never thought it could be like this.”

“Me- me neither.” He confesses.

“Want you all the time.” The boy whispers, fastening the pace. At this point Louis is just there, on top of him, completely  _ useless _ , because Harry’s making him see stars. “‘M so close, Lou, I think I-”

“Please come,” Louis says.

“You first.”

The hand that’s on his back travels down again, and Harry presses a finger exactly where Louis’ rim is stretched, his cock never stopping the fucking, and Louis’ own getting friction between their stomachs.

It only takes Harry putting a second finger there and trying to fit them in with his cock for Louis to come with a shudder, caught by surprise as his body spasms, and his dick shoots hot, thick stripes of come.

Harry thrusts twice more and then he’s coming too, a low growl escaping his thrusts as he lets his body fall into Louis’, face hidden in the crook of Louis’ neck.

 

It takes them a while to come down. Eventually Harry lays on his side with closed eyes and a pleasant smile on his face. Louis removes the condom and throws on the floor, making a mental note to put it in the trash can in the bathroom later.

He turns on his side and caresses the boy’s hair, kissing the tip of his nose softly. 

When Harry opens his eyes again and looks at Louis, the teacher finds it hard to believe that the whole universe did not conspire to bring him to life. He cannot think of a more beautiful reason for it all to exist than for him in this day.

“I love you with everything I’ve got, did you know that?” Louis tells him. Harry nods.

“You said you’d never know what heaven’s like, but Lou- to me, this is heaven.” Harry kisses his lips. “You’re my kingdom come.” 

And well, Louis needs to agree. Together, they’re in a whole new world. 

  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is the chapter you've all been waiting for since the beginning, so I hope to have made it justice.  
> Thanks a lot for being so supportive and amazing through this whole story.  
> We're almost there, people.
> 
> Love always,  
> M. Xx


	16. FATE DON'T KNOW YOU LIKE I DO

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, last chapter, I can't believe we're finally here.  
> Thanks for coming this far with me, and making me so damn happy throughout this journey.  
> Special thanks to my amazing beta and friend, Jada, and also to one of my best friends, Ju, for helping me and never letting me give up. Don't know what I would've done without you, girls.
> 
> I hope you're happy with how things turned out for them. I know that I am.
> 
> <3

 

_**“I’ll turn the tide, pull down the moon, run rivers dry, battle fate for you.** _

_**Let’s burn the pages, we’ll start anew.”** _

 

 

When Louis wakes up, he knows he’s waking up to a world completely different from the one he was used to. First off, he has a boyfriend now. Well, part of him knows he’s had a boyfriend for a long ass time, with the way he’s been committed to this boy for almost a year now, but still… Now it’s official. Now it’s nine thirty in the morning and Harry’s with him. Not on the couch, not in the kitchen, but here, in his bed. In his arms.

Louis does his best not to move around too much, since he doesn’t want to wake up the boy. After last night’s activities, he’s sure Harry needs some more time. He gets up and grabs his phone with him. Once the screen lights up, he can already see tons of texts and missed calls from friends and family. Nosy idiots, he thinks to himself.

He makes his way to the bathroom and goes through his morning routine peacefully: washes his face, brushes his teeth, combs his hair — sort of. Then, he goes into the kitchen and makes some coffee. Louis isn’t the kind of person who likes to bring breakfast to bed, or at least he wasn’t, until today. But then again, now he’s all about changes.

So, Louis moves quickly and silently around the kitchen, as he makes cheesy toasts and fries strips of bacon to go with the scrambled eggs he also makes; while doing all of that, he’s murmuring a Katy Perry song — Lord knows how Louis knows the lyrics — and smiling like a fool. He’s just so, so happy. He wonders if he’ll know what to do with all this happiness. What he knows is that no words can describe all the feelings he’s feeling at the moment.

 

Going back into the bedroom, he hopes Harry is awake, but he finds the boy now flat on his back, head off the pillow, still very much sleeping.

The teacher places the plate and the coffee on Harry’s bedside table (can he call it Harry’s already?), and sits by his side, ever so carefully lifting his hand to caress Harry’s cheek, leaning half of his weight on him.

“Hazza, wake up.” He whispers, leaning down to peck his lips, then his nose. “Harry.” He calls him softly again. “Baby…” Louis says into his ear, kissing right below it.

Harry groans a bit and starts to shift on the bed. It’s a mess of sheets and curls and boy. Louis sits up again and watches him with a permanent smile on his face, hand still on Harry’s thigh.

“Morning,” Harry voices roughly.

“Morning, baby.” Louis replies.

The boy opens his eyes and grins. God, he’s so beautiful. Louis has seen him in the morning before, but never this raw, never this soft, never this his. He’s awestruck.

“Come here.” Harry opens his arms and scoots to the side. Louis doesn’t lay down, though. He leans forwards to hug him, lets Harry breathe him in a few times, then sits up straight one more time.

“I made breakfast,” he tells him nonchalantly. “Sit up or it’s gonna get cold.”

As if he’s just now registering the food smell, Harry looks to his side and places one hand on his tummy, probably feeling it growl.

“You’re an angel.” Harry chuckles and does as told, sitting up on the bed and leaning against the headboard. “Gimme.” He makes grabby hands to the plate.

“A bit spoiled, aren’t ya?” Louis jokes as he gets it.

“You’re the one spoiling me.” The boy chuckles, already eating his scrambled eggs.

“Don’t get used to it,” Louis responds as he eats one strip of bacon. It’s a total lie. Harry can most definitely get used to it, and he knows, by the way he laughs and rolls his eyes.

 

“You know what’s super scary now?” Harry asks him when they’re almost done eating. Louis shakes his head negatively, waiting for an answer. “The fact that now that I’m done with school, on my way to college and all, I could literally change my life.”

“You’ve already changed your life.” The teacher frowns.

“No, I know, but like- I could stop talking to anyone who makes me unhappy. At CPS, at work, on my street. I could kiss anyone I want, namely, you,” at that, he leans forwards and pecks Louis’ lips. “I could shave my head, get on a bus without destination, just like- take my own life.”

“Please don’t shave your head or get on a bus!” Louis is quick to ask.

Harry laughs.

“Lou, the point is: nothing’s stopping me anymore, not even myself. The entire world is in my hands, and I have no idea what to do with it.” Harry states. “That’s scary.”

“It’s okay. We’ll figure it out.” He tells him, squeezing his hand. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” The boy agrees and places the plate on the bedside table, coffee long gone. He pulls Louis in and kisses him properly for the first time today, as the teacher straddles his lap.

It’s languid, and it’s long, and it’s everything a person needs on a morning like this. At least, it’s everything Louis needs.

He fits one hand in Harry’s curls and another around his arm, while Harry has both of them on his thighs, squeezing them every now and then. They tilt their heads for better access as their tongues tangle without ever wanting to be apart.

Louis deepens the kiss and grounds himself more on Harry’s lap, feeling the boy’s hands sliding up and around his thighs, finding his bum.

“H, I have a question.” Louis whispers, feeling Harry getting hard and being on his way there too.

“Now?”

“Now.” He laughs into his mouth, kissing it one more time.

“Okay, ask me.” Harry sighs, hands going back to his legs and stilling there, thumb hooking on the edge of Louis’ boxers.

“Last night,” the teacher starts. “Was that- was the your first time?”

“Why? Was it bad?” He asks right back, looking down.

“No, baby, it was pretty incredible,” Louis assures him. “I just- I want to know. But I don’t need to, if you-”

“It wasn’t.” Harry tells him. “Well, I- I’ve fucked girls before.”

“Girls?”

“A girl. When I was like- sixteen?” The boy continues. “Didn’t like it much, so I started experimenting with guys. I’ve done pretty much everything, except, you know-”

“Penetrative sex?”

“You sound like a doctor now.”

“My parents are doctors,” he shrugs.

“Please, let’s not mention your parents in this conversation.”

Louis laughs.

Harry sighs.

“Technically, yes. Last night was my first, real time with a man.” He smiles.

“And was it better than with a girl?” Louis asks, already knowing the answer.

The boy hugs him.

“Better than everything with everyone else.” He confesses. “Fuck, you’re making me cheesy.”

“Make  no mistake, Hazza, you’ve been cheesy for a long time now.” The teacher mocks him.

“Asshole.” With that, Harry drops him on his back on the bed, getting up. “No idea why I love you.” He says it over his shoulder.

It’s so mundane. It’s so simple. It’s incredible.

“Because I’m the best thing that’s ever been yours?” Louis sits up again, a childish smile on his face.

“Probably, yeah.” Harry responds. “I’m going to shower. Don’t follow me.” He points at him.

“Is that code for please follow me?” Louis is already kneeling on the bed.

“You know me so well, darling…” The boy sing-songs.

Needless to say, Louis follows him.

  
  


-

  
  


They touch down in Los Angeles on a Wednesday, two weeks after graduation. Harry’s here to visit his campus and supposedly find a dorm room, Louis is here to support him — but truth is, he’s also here to confirm a job, Harry just doesn’t know it yet.

 

Louis has been to the UCLA campus dozens of times. He used to sneak in all kinds of college parties when he was younger and he’s also been here quite a few times with Lottie, so he knows his way around the place. So, when they get there, after leaving their things at the hotel, Harry has a glint in his eyes that Louis has only seen on special occasions — that look of hope, of “okay, yes, I can believe that I’ve made it”.

The boy entwines their fingers and gives Louis one of those big smiles that make the teacher all warm on the inside. They’ve been up since five a.m., and still, Harry looks super awake, wired even.

“It’s just- so big!” He exclaims as they walk towards his building.

“It is, isn’t it?” Louis answers. “You’re gonna need a map.” He jokes.

“I’m probably going to get lost with the map,” Harry laughs.

“Lots will help you, I’m sure.”

“Yes!” The boy smiles big at him again. “I’m so happy to already know someone here, you know? I don’t even know if I’ll fit in, but just knowing that-”

“Of course you will, love,” Louis leans a bit to kiss him on the cheek while they’re walking, “you fit in everywhere.” He tells him pointedly.

And it’s true.

Louis is yet to see a place where Harry Styles doesn’t fit. It’s like he has this magical, super-powerful quality to his personality that everywhere he goes, he becomes a part of. Not many people can do it. Louis surely can. But Harry… He remembers thinking that Harry fit right in with his neighborhood and those gangsters, he remembers thinking that explained a lot about the way he acted.

Even though he didn’t exactly have friends at school, Harry also fit in there — he found his way; some people disliked him, but as time passed, it became clear that they just didn’t know him, and were curious as to why he was that way. Later, Harry fit in perfectly in the classroom, then, in Louis’ living room. He fit in perfectly at his job too, and at Miss Helena’s. Most of all, Harry fits incredibly in Louis’ arms, in his heart, and he just loves him so much that he sometimes can’t process it properly.

 

They stroll around hand in hand till the sun starts to get too much. It’s summer in California after all. So, they make up their minds to go to the nearest cafe and have some lunch. If everything works out, Louis still wants to check out the apartment he’s about to sign the lease to. He needs his boy’s approval first.

 

“What did you think about the dorms?” Louis asks him once their sandwiches arrive.

“Cool. Like- it must be weird sharing a room with some stranger, right? I mean, my bedroom’s always been shitty, but it’s always been mine.” Harry shrugs, speaking while eating. It should be disgusting. It’s endearing.

“I can understand, but it can be good. Cal was my roommate. We were strangers, now he’s one of my best friends.” He tells him.

“Were you friends from the start?”

“No. Jesus, no,” Louis chuckles. “I actually hated him. He used to bring girls around all the time during the first semester, and like- I was there?”

“I don’t think I’d be able to have sex with a person while I knew someone else was in the room.” He frowns.

“Eh- it all depends.”

Harry’s eyes widen.

“You’ve done it?”

“Not proud of it.” Louis responds. Harry presses for him to tell the stories, so he does. They laugh all the way through their meal.

  
  


-

  
  


All they can think of once they finish eating is: bed.

Louis texts the principal of the school he’s been in contact with lately and lets him know that he’ll drop by tomorrow, then gets in a cab with Harry back to their hotel.

Once they arrive, Louis begs to be the first one to hop in the shower; if Harry’s energy’s just started to go down, Louis’s has been down since he woke up this morning. The boy agrees easily, and minutes later he shows up in the bathroom, dressing down and joining Louis right after.

 

“So that’s why you let me shower first, uh?” Louis smiles, feeling the boy’s arms around him, resting his head on Harry’s chest.

“Hm…” Harry hums. “Saving water and all that.” He chuckles and kisses Louis’ neck. “Can you believe I’m getting taller than you?” He then asks.

“Shut up.”

“It’s true though,” his boyfriend turns him in his arms, Louis blinks quickly to look at him. “I’m gonna get taller and taller, and you’ll remain tiny.”

“Shut up.” Louis kisses him, but Harry’s not having any of it. He’s… He’s laughing.

“’S going to be funny.” Harry tells him. Then kisses him one more time. And then: “I’ll still want to be the little spoon though.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah…” The teacher pretends to be bored and turns around, reaching for the soap. Truth is, he’s really looking forward to holding Harry for the rest of their lives.

 

-

 

At first, when he looked it up online, Louis thought he wouldn’t like it here. The school seemed too big and too fancy, and even though it is a public one, it’s nothing like the one he got used to in Chicago. Still, when they pull over and the teacher sees it for himself, he can almost imagine how his life is going to be for the next four years, give or take.

The outside walls are painted with a fainted yellow, and even though the gates are open, it looks fairly empty, with it being summer and all. Harry only notices where they are when they get out of the car, and he soon frowns at Louis.

“What are we doing here?” He asks, looking suspicious.

“Thought you’d like to see where I’m going to be working after the summer…”

“Wait, what?”

“But, more importantly, thought you’d like to see where I’m living. It’s like- two streets from here, we could walk…”

“Louis!” Harry squeezes his hand, then turns to look at him. “What?”

“Everyone and their mother knew I wouldn’t stay in Chicago if you came here. It took me a while to catch up, but-” Louis stops himself. “Look, if you think it is creepy, I can-”

Harry kisses him in the middle of the street.

He pulls Louis by the nape of his neck and smashes their mouths together, not caring that they’re out in public and that they can do it; this is still new to them.

“I’m. So. Fucking. Happy.” He kisses him after each word. “Damn it.” Then, the boy hugs him. “I was trying to convince myself college would be so awesome I wouldn’t miss you, but fuck, it wasn’t working.”

Louis chuckles.

“College will be awesome regardless. But you won’t have to miss me.” He looks at him. “Better yet, I won’t have to miss you.” Then, cuddles in closer, his head on Harry’s shoulder.

“Doesn’t it bother you, though? To be moving again?” Harry asks, making him think.

“A bit.” Louis decides to answer. “But, all in all, it makes sense. You’re gonna be here, my sister is here, my parents, my younger siblings and most of my friends are just a drive away… It feels like I’ve come full circle? Went to college, met Cal and Oli. Went to Chicago, met you. And now I’m back home.” He smiles. “Is it weird for you? Knowing you won’t be in Chicago anymore?”

“No, not at all.” Harry takes a deep breath. “It’s relieving, really.” They go back to walking. “Plus, even though I’ll miss my mom, I never felt at home there.”

“Yeah?”

“Not unless I was with you.” He shrugs.

“Shut up.” Louis blushes. Harry kisses his cheek. It’s perfect.

 

They see the school fairly quickly. Louis talks to the principal, a woman called Leticia, and she sounds tough, but kind at the same time. He discloses everything that’s happened in the last couple of years, but if she is shocked, she doesn’t let it show. Instead, she makes sure to go outside and meet Harry, and then invites him to the party they throw every beginning of the semester, at one of the teachers’ houses.

After she calls Corden to see if every document is in order, Louis signs some papers, visits his future classroom, and in less than an hour, they’re out.

Just like he suggested, they walk towards his apartment. Louis is not nervous about what he’s going to tell Harry, except for the fact that he totally is, and he starts sweating just to think of it. The realtor is already waiting for them when they get there, and once they get in the elevator, going up to the eighth floor, Harry starts giving him odd looks, since Louis won’t stop fidgeting.

 

“I honestly think everything is in order, Mr. Tomlinson, your parents made sure this was exactly what you were looking for,” Robert, the realtor, says.

“Yeah, they sent me pictures, it looked amazing. The view seemed amazing…” He comments as the man unlocks the door.

“You both can see it for yourselves now.” The man smiles.

 

The place is a bit smaller than the one in Chicago. Of course it is, Los Angeles is more expensive, after all. But it looks cozy. The light coming from the big window makes the living room seem like it’s magical, and the kitchen is so bright that his eyes almost hurt. There’s no furniture here yet, but Louis’ mind is already going at a hundred miles per minute, thinking of everything he needs to buy in the next month.

Harry looks around in disbelief, and when Robert says he’ll let them explore the place, the boy quickly goes out to the balcony, inviting Louis to check the view with him.

Unfortunately, it’s not in front of a beach. Louis can’t really afford that. But they can see pretty houses and the mountains ahead of them, and Louis is pretty sure they’ll be able to see the sun set from here. He takes a picture and sends it to the group chat he has with Zayn, Niall and Liam. For a second there, his heart hurts.

In the year and a half Louis stayed in Chicago, he can say that those three men, plus Perrie and Rita, in a lower level, became his friends just as much as the ones he’s known for longer. Everyone replies quickly, cheering him on, congratulating him for the new space. And all Louis can think is that A.M is not around the corner anymore, and that Liam’s not one floor below, and that Zayn won’t give him rides to work.

Shit. Maybe Louis will miss Chicago more than he thinks.

He sighs, and Harry hugs him from behind.

“It’s okay to be sad.” He tells him.

“I’m not sad.” Louis says and the boy kisses his cheek. “I’m not, I just- I.”

“You’ll miss them.” Harry states. “Hell, I’ll miss them,” he sighs. “But we can visit. They can visit, right? I mean- you, Oli and Calvin have been living away from one another for ages and you still see each other. Friendships don’t end because a person has moved away. Yeah?”

Louis turns and looks at him; his heart’s calmer now.

“Yes.” He nods, then pecks Harry’s lips. “Wanna check the bedroom?”

“Oh, definitely,” the boy smirks.

“There’s nothing really in there, except-”

“Let’s.” Harry cuts him off and lets himself be guided.

There’s nothing really in there, except for one bed. A California king bed that Louis ordered less than a week ago. It’s enormous and it takes half of the space of the bedroom, but Louis thinks it’s going to be so, so worth it.

“It’s- it’s incredible.”

“Isn’t it?” He smiles. “Look, I- uh.” And he can’t say it, he really, really can’t. “I-”

“Lou. It’s me.” Harry smiles.

“It’s you.” He repeats. “It really is you.” Louis says. “Here’s what’s going to happen: I’m going to the living room and I’m going to sign the lease and get our keys. Our keys, because you’ll obviously have one too. And- And I think,” he swallows thickly, “I think for the first year, or for however long, really, you’ll want to stay in the dorms, maybe share an apartment with a friend, I don’t know, but-” deep breaths, “if you wanna come back here on weekends, the rule from Chicago remains the same… Door’s always open, and I’ll always be happy to have you.”

“Hm…” Harry’s body sways closer. “And what if I wanna come back here on weekdays? Say, after class? Or maybe, after work, as soon as I get a job?”

“You mean, like-”

“Like. What if I live here, with you? And instead of splitting bills with a new friend, I do that with my boyfriend, whom I love, and whom I waited for forever to be with?” Harry suggests.

“But, you’re nineteen,” Harry sighs and rolls his eyes, whispering here we go again. “And you might want to—”

“Lou. Lou, stop.” The boy says. “Just, stop thinking that just because I’m younger I don’t know what I want.”

“It’s not that, Hazz. I promise it isn’t. But college is awesome, you’re going to want to go to the dorm parties and I’m gonna die of jealousy,” he chuckles, “But I’ll get it. I’ll be happy for you.”

“Living with you is not gonna stop me from going to parties, if I want to. It’ll be better, since I’ll have someone to hold my hair while I throw up in the morning.” Harry jokes. “I know you think that having me live with you means you’re taking something away from me, but you’re not. I get it, you had this incredible college experience, where you went crazy and slept with tons of people and barely knew how you’d get up in the morning, but, I don’t know, I don’t think that’ll be me.”

“Well, I sure hope you won’t be sleeping with tons of people.” Louis tries to laugh lightly.

“I won’t. And yeah, I might go to a party or two to socialize, but Lou. I’ve had enough craziness for now. What I want, and what I’ve never had, is to go to school in the morning after sleeping well. It’s coming home without being afraid. It’s having someone to cuddle and give me a cup of coffee when I’m falling asleep on my books. Someone who’ll pick me up in the library to have lunch.” Harry gets closer.

“I… I can do that.” He whispers. “And hold your hair when you throw up in the morning.”

They both chuckle.

“I’ll have plenty of time to be a college kid at college. But I want to fall asleep with you, and I want to wake up with you. If you’ll have me.” Harry pecks his mouth.

“Always.” Louis responds.

It appears they’re moving in together then.

And, at the same time it is faster than one would think it’s socially acceptable, it also feels like it’s long overdue.

 

-

 

Once everything is solved, they check out of the hotel and get in the car, finally going to San Francisco.

If Harry is nervous, he doesn’t let on. He seems more excited than anything to be seeing Louis’ parents again, but this time as his boyfriend. Charlotte isn’t going to be around, since she went on a road trip with some of her friends, but the children are and that’s what matters the most, the boy keeps saying. He’s absurdly excited to see the twins, after all.

Louis might be more nervous than he is, but maybe because this is the first time he is taking a boy home. Although he’s had boyfriends before, he’s never really taken them to his house. They’ve met his parents in other circumstances, sure, but this feels more serious. This feels like the first and only time Louis will get to do this right, because by the way his heart races every time he is reminded that Harry is his, Louis is pretty sure that he won’t want anyone else ever again.

The drive takes longer than he expects, but maybe because they stop to go to the restroom and have snacks.

It’s almost seven p.m. when they get to his neighborhood, and Jay has already called three times, the last one being fifteen minutes ago, to say she was getting started on dinner. Harry was the one to talk to her on the phone, since Louis is driving, and he promises they’ll bring dessert. As it is, right before entering Louis’ street, they stop at a bakery and pick up a pie.

Now, Harry’s sort of jumping in his seat. It’s cute.

 

They arrive at seven fifteen, and Mark’s already at the door.

“Took you long enough!” He says as Harry comes out of the car.

“I know, right? But we brought dessert…” The boy says, lifting the box with the pie for emphasis.

“How are you, son?” Mark asks, giving Harry a one arm hug. Louis gets their things and locks the car. “Good to see you again.”

“Good to see you too. I’m really, really happy. Can’t believe it’s all over.” He chuckles, hugging him back.

“It’s all beginning, you dickhead.” Louis makes fun of him. “Hi, Dad. Thank you two for not letting me introduce you properly.”

They both laugh.

“We’ve… Already met?” Mark frowns.

“He means as his boyfriend.” Harry whispers.

“Oh. We’ve… Already met?” Mark frowns again, this time joking. “Oooh! You mean to tell me you weren’t dating when we went to Chicago?”

“Your insufferable!” Louis rolls his eyes.

“Hi, Lou. Traffic was bad?” His father says, a cynic smile on his face.

“Surprisingly no, we just stopped for a bit.” He responds. “Let’s go inside.”

 

His mom sort of ruins it for him too, when she comes in the hallway saying Harry, you’re here and hugging him right after, not even letting Louis say so, this is my boyfriend. In a way, it’s perfect too. Louis hugs his mom and asks for the kids, already knowing that they’re probably in the television room.

Harry offers to help in the kitchen, but she shoos him away, telling him to go see the twins and rest, and she and Mark will call them when everything’s ready.

Doris and Ernest don’t remember him much. They sure know who he is, but it takes them a bit to warm up to him again. (And by a bit Louis means, like, ten minutes.) And when they do, they don’t let go of him. Louis can relate.

 

-

 

Showing San Francisco to Harry is a dream come true. One Louis didn’t even know he had. For the first two days, they stay home and only go out to have dinner with Louis’ parents. During the day, they watch the kids and make lunch together, go into the pool for a bit, and just play house. They call Anne and update her on everything, and promise to visit her as soon as they get back.

During the following week, Louis takes him to all of his favorite places, including a few beaches. The most popular places are filled with tourists, so they don’t really stay anywhere for long, but it’s enough for Harry to grasp how Louis spent his childhood and teenage years, and his smile gets bigger and bigger hearing the stories.

When he tells some of his own, Louis almost feels guilty at the incredible difference that they have in life experiences. It hurts to know everything Harry went through, and Louis wishes he could go back in time and sort of trade places with him, so Harry would never know pain. And that’s when it hits him just how much he loves Harry. When he chokes up and can’t tell him. When he kisses him right before it gets dark. When he kisses him again when the sun is long gone.

His love for the boy did not happen from day to night. It was nurtured for months and months, ever since they met. It was carefully built in every crack, in every error, in every morning, afternoon and night they spent together. They started with nothing, quite literally, and now they’re here.

 

“I love you so fucking much.” Louis hugs him, right before they enter a restaurant, where Harry will met Louis’ oldest friends.

“I love you too, Lou.” Harry smiles at him.

Harry is always smiling these days.

 

Needless to say, Louis’ friends like Harry very much a lot. And when he is teased for dating a younger guy, his boyfriend comes to his rescue, saying that he prefers them older and smarter and ain’t nothing wrong with that, causing everybody to laugh and Louis to roll his eyes. Harry kisses him right after, so it’s all good.

They spend a long time there, and when they’re ready to go out, Luke invites them back to his place, where they’ll be able to play cards, and Harry will be able to drink. No one turns down the invitation.

“You know,” Luke says, arm slung over Louis’ shoulders, “I thought I’d be jealous of your boy, but I’m actually quite happy for you.”

“Shut up,” Louis pushes him away.

“It’s true. Last time, when we, you know- I thought we’d be good for each other.”

“Lucas-” Louis starts.

“But no. Wait. I’m just saying. Now I see that we’re really just friends and, like I said, I’m happy for you.” He hugs him.

“Thanks, you asshole.” Louis hugs back.

When they separate, Harry’s close, staring at them. Alex is talking to him, but the boy isn’t paying attention. When he notices that Louis sees him, he does turn his head around, smiling coyly at Alex and engaging in conversation.

It takes Harry ten minutes to come talk to him again. Louis is in the kitchen, getting a refill for his coke (since he’s driving, he needed to stop drinking), and Harry finds him.

 

“I want to go home, if that’s okay.” He says seriously.

“Why? Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s awesome.” Harry responds. “And I really like your friends, they’ve all been super nice to me. But I don’t like being in the house of someone you’ve slept with.”

“What?”

“I sort of heard him talking, and I’m sorry I did, but.”

“I didn’t sleep with him,” Louis chuckles. “We kissed in my parents’ pool one of the times I visited. We were super drunk and I let it happen. You and I didn’t even like each other then, and I was seeing Nick? Yeah. I didn’t sleep with Luke, Hazz.” He pulls him closer by the hand. Harry’s still serious.

“You kissed him. In your parents’ pool.” He repeats.

“Technically, he kissed me.” And then. “Wait. Why do you sound angrier than when you thought I’d slept with him?”

“You kissed me in your parents’ pool.” Harry says. “And I still don’t wanna be here.”

Jealous Harry is annoying. Jealous Harry is hot as fuck.

Louis closes the space between them and kisses him deeply. Harry reacts fast, and grips Louis’ waist, backing him against the counter and sitting him on the surface. He kisses Louis now. He gets between his legs, holds him by the ass and kisses the living shit out of him, not giving a damn that they’re not alone and someone’s bound to come here soon enough.

Louis doesn’t care much either, though. He’s all for possessive Harry, after all. He opens his mouth and lets himself be kissed roughly, hands entwined in Harry’s curls and legs hugging his waist, pulling him impossibly closer, feeling the boy get hard by the minute.

They don’t stop. Harry moves one hand to Louis’ bicep while the other squeezes his thigh, and Louis almost raises himself from the counter surface, gripping Harry’s neck and tilting his head, allowing the boy to take the kiss further, making it dirtier and dirtier.

“You’re mine,” Harry stops kissing him to say, licking his neck, his throat, his collarbones.

“Yes, I am.” Louis almost laughs, head thrown back, arousal evident.

“Wanna go home and fuck you.” The boy says.

“In my parents’ pool?” Louis tries to joke and needs to swallow a moan when Harry bites down on his neck.

“Anywhere.” He replies. Well, it seems like they’re going home.

 

-

 

Going back to Chicago knowing that he will be back to California in a month somehow makes things easier for Louis. When he says goodbye to his parents, it’s cheerful, and when he hugs Doris and Ernest, he’s happy to know they won’t have grown too much when he sees them again.

Louis’ mother bakes them a goodbye cake and Harry helps her. Louis is sure that that’s the moment when they have the talk, but he doesn’t eavesdrop. Instead, he goes outside with his dad and talks to him. Mark doesn’t get sentimental with his words, but his eyes tell him a lot. Everyone is happy for him and, truth be told, Louis is incredibly happy for himself as well.

 

“Achoo, we’ll miss you.” Doris pouts.

“I’ll be back soon, baby.”

“And Hazzy?”

“Him too.” Louis replies, smile on his face. Harry has Ernest in his arms, reassuring him of the same thing. It’s too endearing, he can barely cope. “Wait, lemme hug Mom.”

“Bye, Lou.” Jay has her arms open already.

“Bye, Mom.” He rests his chin on her shoulder. “See you soon, yeah?”

“Sure. Can’t wait to help you guys redecorate.” She smiles big. “I’m… I’m glad you’re moving here, and I’m glad he’s moving in with you.”

“Me, too.” Louis looks down sheepishly.

“Something tells me this is the real deal.” Jay says.

“Yeah. Same.” He agrees.

It is.

 

-

 

Here’s how things happen in Chicago: they visit Anne on their first day back, and, apparently, they’re not the only ones with moving in news.

Since Harry is moving away, there’s no reason for her to stay in Fuller Park alone, by herself, anymore.  Robin has a house in a better neighborhood, where she won’t have to deal with mortgage and a curfew, and he has asked her to live with him. Anne says that she knows it seems too fast, too silly even, but that at her age, she can’t really wait much longer.

“For what it’s worth, I think you’re super young, so that’s not really a reason,” Louis says, after she asks for both of their opinions. “But I also think that when you love someone, you just know. And you deserve all the happiness in the world.” He smiles.

“Thank you, Louis.” Anne smiles.

“H.” He nudges his boyfriend.

Harry clears his throat.

“It’s- weird. Knowing that I won’t come back here anymore. I mean, I hated it here for a long time, but it’s- all my memories are here.” The boy looks down, then at his mother again. “You’re beautiful, and you’re amazing, and for the longest time I wasn’t the son you deserved me to be…”

“Harry…” His mother starts.

“But I’ve changed. I’m going to keep making you prouder, and the only thing you’ll have to worry about is selling all this old furniture before moving in with your boyfriend.” He smiles. “Can you believe that? We both found great catches.” Harry chuckles and gets up to hug her. “Come here.”

“Oh, Harry!” Anne cries as she hugs him.

“Dad would’ve wanted you to be happy. I want you to be happy. If Robin makes you happy, then you need to be with him. Yeah?”

“Yes.”

If Louis sheds a tear or two, neither of them see, too engrossed in their own crying.

 

After promising Anne that they’ll help her with the moving, Harry and Louis start packing their own things, too eager to start anew.

Louis goes back to his apartment and leaves Harry and his mom alone. He stops by A.M to see Niall and have a few beers, tells him about the move, hugs him tight, and when he gets home he goes straight to bed, too tired to think of anything else. However, in the morning, Louis starts researching moving companies and looking for boxes where he can put his things.

Zayn’s the first person he calls, and the phone is silent for way too long before his friend responds, with a watery voice, that he is happy for him. Jesus. Louis really loves Zayn Malik.

Telling Liam, however, is easier. The police officer doesn’t pretend, not even for a second, that he is shocked. Instead, he laughs, invites Louis in, and tells him that Rita’s birthday is coming up, and they’re going to throw her a party. We might as well make it your goodbye party too, he says. Still, Louis sees some kind of sadness behind his eyes, it’s sort of the same one he carries too.

“You really saved that boy’s life, Louis.” Liam comments. “When I met Harry, I- I saw so much of my best friend in him… The one who died, you know?” Louis nods. “And, at the time, I didn’t have a way to help him, and he died and I never forgave myself. I did what I could for Harry and it meant bringing him to you. You saved his life. So. You know, thank you.” The police officer squeezes his forearm lightly.

Louis is emotional.

“You, Liam Payne, are a hell of a man.” He assures him. “And, in many ways, Harry saved my life too…” Louis smiles, staring ahead. “God only knows what I’d do without him.” He chuckles. “Thank you, too. For bringing him to me that night. And, you know, for not judging or jailing me when you clearly could.” He jokes in the end, but it falls flat. So, he pulls Liam in for a hug.

A party will be just what they need.

  
  


-

  
  


The days go on in Chicago quite normally, Louis reckons.

He visits people, packs, sees Harry. He goes out, gets some food, packs some more, sleeps with Harry. His mom’s been calling nonstop to know when he’s actually coming back to California, can’t wait to get a few days off to help him decorate the new apartment, but Louis tells her he doesn’t know. Part of him is procrastinating, he’s sure, but he is aware that it will happen shortly after Rita’s party, which is this weekend.

It will be in Liam’s flat, and everyone that matters to Louis will be there. Sure, there will be people he doesn’t know, but the ones that he does know are the ones he’s counting on. It saves him the trouble of throwing his own going away party. It’ll probably save him some tears as well.

Harry is… Animated, to say the least. He’s already said his goodbyes — at work, at the few people he liked from CPS, at the gangsters he lived with his whole life.

He tells Louis about all his plans at UCLA, how excited he is to explore it with Lottie, and how he even managed to save enough to get himself a laptop to go to class. Louis is almost bursting with pride, and that is super enough for him to finish packing.

 

“You have too many things.” Harry comments from Louis’ bed. It’s late, and it’s hot outside, but in here they’re comfy, only in their boxers, and the air conditioner is on. It’s a perfect summer night, in Louis’ book.

“I’m almost done now, just need to-”

“Don’t you dare pack that yet.” The boy raises his voice, sitting up on the bed.

“And why not?” Louis turns around, the lube still in his hand.

“I’m not leaving Chicago a virgin.” He states.

“You… Aren’t… A virgin?” Now Louis is genuinely confused.

“I’m saying I want you to fuck me. On this bed. Tonight, preferably.” Harry smiles coyly.

“Babe.” Louis sighs, a smile on his face. He approaches Harry. “You sure?”

“Louis, come here.” He makes grabby hands to his boyfriend, and Louis kneels on the bed, right in front of him. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while. And I want this.”

“You can- wait.”

“I don’t want to.” Harry gets up to his knees too, touches Louis’ arm. “I want it to be here. In the very place where I fell in love with you.” He tilts his head, kisses Louis’ cheek. “Please?”

 

The first time Louis fucks Harry is incredibly special to the both of them. To Harry, because it is a first, and it’s with someone he loves. To Louis, because it’s the last time he is doing it for the first time with someone new.

It’s slow, and it’s passionate, and it’s loud. They go at it three times. And when they fall asleep, tangled in each other, Louis can tell that if it is up to him, he will never sleep with anyone else.

  
  


-

  
  


“To Louis and Harry! And their new beginning!” Perrie raises a glass, late at night, when there’s only them and their friends left at Liam’s apartment.

“To Louis and Harry!” Everyone cheers.

It’s beautiful, and it’s nostalgic. Sad and magic. It’s real.

  
  


-

  
  


The next day, they help Anne move into Robin’s place, and when they lock the door, for real, at Harry’s childhood house in Fuller Park, it hits them, at the same time, that even though it feels a lot like an ending, their lives, together, is only just beginning.

“You’ve changed my fate, you know?” Harry says to him once they’re out on the front porch. His hand’s still on the door knob. “At times, I still fear it’ll come to bite me in the ass.” The boy confesses.

The teacher chuckles, and grabs Harry’s hand, spinning him around. Harry’s already grinning when Louis starts speaking.

“Oh darling…” He takes a deep breath, places a hand on the side of Harry’s face, thumb deepening in his dimple. “Fate don’t know you like I do.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There might be an epilogue coming in the future. I have an idea for it, I'm just super busy at the moment.  
> For now, this is goodbye. But I'll see y'all soon - maybe with a new fic......... haha.
> 
> All the love in the world, as always.  
> M. Xx

**Author's Note:**

> As always, if possible, please let me know what you think, either here or somewhere else. I'm always on **_[twitter](https://twitter.com/ifmelcouldfly)_** , but you can find me on **_[tumblr](http://downgoesanotherhero.tumblr.com)_** too. 
> 
> Much love,  
> M. Xx


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